Feathered game of the Northeast

HENRy MEyER

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Feathered Game

of the

Northeast

By
WALTER H. RICH

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR

NEW YORK

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.

PUBLISHERS

j^-UNiVERS^

^WDRAW*

Copyright, 1907,

By Thomas Y. Cbowell & Co.

Published September, 1907.

TO MY WIFE,

MOST PATIENT OF READERS

AND GENTLEST OF CRITICS

THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.

SK
313

1101

PREFACE.

The writer is aware that there are many ex-
cellent bird books, but while most of these are
of wider scope, either covering the broad field
of general ornithology or dealing with the en-
tire bird life of a large area of country, there
are few which treat solely of the groups of spe-
cial interest to sportsmen, — especially to the
sportsmen of New England. This work is de-
voted to the so-called "game birds," and while
the author's intent has been to write of them
to the man whose nature study has been con-
ducted in the open and mostly over a gunbarrel,
it is his hope that all lovers of the birds and the
out-of-doors, and even the scientific ornitholo-
gist as well, may find his page of interest and
profit.

Treating the subject from the standpoint of
fair sportsmanship, the writer has endeavored
to discountenance the reckless and needless
slaughter by those whose ambition it is to make
a record killing, and he asks of the thoughtful

v

vi PREFACE

sportsman, who beats the covert in search of
health and sport, and of the working naturalist,
that they meet on this common ground and work
loyally together in an effort to save our wild life
from the extermination which threatens. The
protection of our wild creatures, particularly
of our game birds, seems to be the most im-
portant question in the sportsman's outlook
upon the future — a question calling for much
foresight and no little self-denial in its proper
solution. The present generation is feeling the
results of that selfishness of the past, so well
summed up in its two stock arguments: "0,
well, if I don't kill them someone else will, and
the game will last my time, anyhow!"

Will it, you who listen to our old men's tales
of shooting days in the not-so-long-ago? Will
it, you who have gunned the marsh? Where
are the plover flocks which once swept across its
wide expanse? Will it, market hunter and
slayer of the wild pigeon? Will it, chicken hun-
ter, you who left your dead to rot in August's
sun? Will it, hide hunter of the buffalo days?

If the reader can look with indifference upon
the works of these, let him permit things to take
their ruinous course, — let him do nothing to re-

PREFACE vii

strict any man in killing when, where, or how
he will. But if he wishes to save our weaker
brethren of the wilderness, that they may fur-
nish to those who come after us the joys they
afford to-day, he will lend his best effort, when
someone with the interests of our game supply
at heart tries to put off the opening day of a
shooting season until the birds have become full-
fledged, or he will strengthen the hands of those
who endeavor to stop spring shooting, or to
close our markets to the sale of game. These
things I say to the great brotherhood of sports-
men.

To the individual gunner this admonition
may not come amiss : do not, even though with-
in your legal right, continue to kill after a fair
bag has been made. It would be a wise plan
for each and all of us who carry a gun to paste
in our shooting hats cards bearing the motto :

" Don't forget to leave enough for seed."

And now, reader, this book is committed to
you in the hope that you may find herein some-
thing to remind you pleasantly of your own
exploits on wooded hillside, or 'mid rustling
reeds, or on sunlit seas, and with the wish that

viii PREFACE

you may forgive its many short-comings, "Of
which," as honest Izaak says, "if thou be a
severe, sour-complexioned man, then I here dis-
allow thee to be a competent judge."

Walter H. Rich.

Falmouth, Maine, June first, 1907.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

Spruce Grouse 1

Heath Hen 9

Ruffed Grouse 16

Willow Grouse 51

Bob White 57

Beetlehead Plover 70

Golden Plover 78

Kildeer Plover 83

Semipalmated Plover 85

Piping Plover 88

Belted Piping Plover 89

Wilson's Plover 90

American Oyster Catcher 91

Turnstone 94

Avocet 97

Stilt 99

Red Phalarope 101

Northern Phalarope 102

Wilson's Phalarope 105

American Woodcock 108

Wilson's Snipe 130

dowitcher 145

ix

x TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

Stilt Sandpiper 149

Baird's Sandpiper 151

The "Peeps" 153

Grassbird 159

Purple Sandpiper 163

Red-backed Sandpiper 166

Sanderling 168

Robin Snipe 170

Great Marbled Godwit 172

Hudsonian Godwit 174

Willet 176

Winter Yellow-legs 177

Summer Yellow-legs 186

Solitary Sandpiper 188

Spotted Sandpiper 193

Eupf 199

Upland Plover 201

Buff-breasted Sandpiper 214

Sickle-billed Curlew 215

Hudsonian Curlew 218

Esquimaux Curlew 220

King Rail 223

Clapper Rail 227

Virginia Rail 229

Sora Rail 231

Yellow Rail 237

Black Rail 239

TABLE OF CONTENTS xi

PAGE

European Corn Crake 240

Purple Gallinule 241

Florida Gallinule 242

Coot 245

Greater Snow Goose 248

White-fronted Goose 251

Canada Goose 252

Hutchins' Goose 269

Common Brant 270

Mallard Duck 274

Black Duck 279

Gadwall 291

Widgeon 295

Green-winged Teal 300

Blue-winged Teal 304

Shoveler 308

Pintail 312

Wood Duck 318

Red-head 326

Canvasback 331

Greater Bluebill 334

Lesser Bluebill 337

Ring-necked Duck 340

Whistler 341

Rocky Mountain Garrot 351

bufflehead 354

Oldsquaw 357

xii TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

Harlequin 365

Labrador Duck 368

American Eider 371

King Eider 387

American Scoter 390

White- winged Coot 400

Patch-head Coot 403

American Merganser 404

Red-breasted Merganser 408

Hooded Merganser 415

Ruddy Duck 418

Index 425

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Wood Duck Colored Frontispiece

Outline Drawing Showing Ar-
rangement of Plumage . . Opposite page

Spruce Grouse 5

Heath Hen " "13

Ruffed Grouse "25

' ' Trembling with suppressed
joy and eagerness, he turns, ' '

ETC " "35

Ruffed Grouse Shooting . . "45

Willow Grouse "53

Bob White " "63

Beetlehead Plover .... 73

Golden Plover "81

Kildeer Plover "84

Sempalmated Plover — Piping

Plover "87

Wilson's Plover ..... " " 91

Oyster Catcher "93

Turnstone " "95

Avocet " "98

Stilt " "100

Northern Phalarope — Wilson 's

Phalarope — Red Phalarope . " 105

American Woodcock .... " 113

xiii

xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"He Sees his Dog, one Foot

Raised, etc Opposite

Snipe

A Good Snipe Country .

Brownback

Stilt Sandpiper and Baird's
Sandpiper

Semipalmated, Least and White-
rumped Sandpipers ....

Grassbird

Purple Sandpiper and Red-
backed Sandpiper ....

Sanderling

Robin Snipe

Marbled Godwit

Hudsonian Godwit ....

Willet

Winter Yellow-legs

Summer Yellow-legs

Solitary Sandpiper ....

Spotted Sandpiper ....

Ruff

Upland Plover

Buff-breasted Sandpiper

Sickle-billed Curlew

Hudsonian Curlew — Esquimaux
Curlew

King Rail

page 121
135
141
147

151

155
161

165
169
171
173
175
177
183
187
191
195
199
207
214
217

220
224

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

xv

Clapper Rail

Opposite page 227

Virginia Rail

' 229

Sora Rail

« 233

Yellow Rail and Black Rail .

1 237

' 239

Purple Gallinule

1 241

Florida Gallinule ....

' 243

Mud Hen. Coot ....

" 247

" 249

White-fronted Goose

' 251

Canada Goose

' 261

1 270

« 274

' 279

' 291

' 295

Green-winged Teal ....

' 301

Blue-winged Teal ....

' 305

' 309

' 315

' 327

' 331

Greater Bluebill ....

' 334

' 337

Ring-necked Duck ....

' 340

< 343

A Winter Morning with the

Whistlers

Oppc

site pa

ge 347

XVI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Barrow's Golden-eye ... "

" 351

Bupplehead "

' 354

OLDSQUAW — SPRING PLUMAGE . ' '

1 357

OLDSQUAW — WINTER PLUMAGE . ' ' '

1 361

Harlequin Duck "

• 365

Labrador Duck "

1 368

American Eider "

' 375

Sea Duck Shooting over decoys "

< 381

King Eider " . '

' 387

Butter-billed Coot .... " '

1 393

White- winged Coot .... " '

' 400

Patch-head Coot " '

' 403

American Merganser ... "

1 407

Red-breasted Merganser . " '

' 411

Hooded Merganser .... " '

1 415

Euddy Duck " *

< 421

7

FEATHERED GAME OF
THE NORTHEAST

THE SPRUCE GROUSE.

(Canachites canadensis.)

The Spruce Grouse, Canada Grouse, Swamp
Partridge, or Black Grouse, — for by all these
titles this bird is known, — is a dweller on our
North American continent from Newfoundland
to the Columbia river, thence northward into
Alaska, and from the northern portions of the
United States to the limits of the spruce forests
of the sub- Arctic lands, thus leaving only north-
western Montana, Oregon, Washington, and
northward along the coast through British Co-
lumbia for its cousin, Franklin's Grouse. Little
they care for cold or snow. They seem to be
resident at all points of their habitat. The
range of the Spruce Grouse extends much far-
ther into the north than that of the ruffed
grouse. It is somewhat smaller than this aristo-
cratic relative, and in its shape is nearer to the

1

2 FEATHERED GAME

quails and the ptarmigans than to the other
grouse.

Their homes are in the boggy portions of the
woods — swampy ground carpeted in summer
with moss and trailing vines, deep-shaded with
spruce and hemlock — where quaking bogs and
mire over which they pass with light and nimble
steps make the footing of the pursuer treacher-
ous in the extreme — almost impassable haunts
at any other than the winter season. In the
summer months they feed upon the insects,
wild fruits and berries of the woods and at this
season their flesh can scarcely be distinguished
from that of the ruffed grouse in flavor. In-
deed, upon examination of the barrels of "birch
partridges" which were annually destroyed in
the Maine woods by illegal snaring, (now hap-
pily almost a thing of the past because our mar-
kets are closed to the sale of game), many
Spruce Grouse were to be found, having been
passed off upon the dealer as ruffed grouse, and
as this better bird were they sold to inexperi-
enced buyers. But with the coming of the snow
the days of plenty have passed and there is lit-
tle left for them but the leaves and buds of the
various evergreens which make the forests of

SPRUCE GROUSE 3

the northern swamps. At this time their flesh
becomes very dark and to most palates is un-
pleasantly bitter. It is but justice to say, how-
ever, that under like conditions the flesh of the
ruffed grouse is little better. There are those
who claim to prefer this flavor — this strong re-
minder of the spruce tops. If, then, your
friends should speak ill of the table qualities of
either of these fowls, be sure that they have
been experimenting with some winter bird
whose unchanging and long-continued fare of
spruce buds has not been the "sweet savour"
best suiting your epicure's taste. Let us con-
fine ourselves, then, to the legitimate hunting
season and we shall have no such bitter gastro-
nomical disappointments. I have seen men eat
Spruce Grouse twice a day for a week in Octo-
ber with relish unabated at the end of the time,
nor did they think themselves much abused
thereby.

As is the habit of the family their nests are
built upon the ground ; a tiny hollow lined with
dry leaves and moss, protected from the
weather and shielded from view by the over-
hanging boughs of spruce or fir tree. They lay
from ten to eighteen eggs, — commonly nearer

4 FEATHERED GAME

the lesser number, — rather pointed at the
smaller end, of a dull, creamy-buff color, and
splashed and freckled with brown or chestnut
spots. As a rule the nesting season in Maine
is about the first of April, but grows later as
we go farther north.

As has been before stated, the appearance
of this bird is like the quail rather than the
grouse, and in its gait and movements it is most
graceful and attractive. The prevailing color
is a dusky bluish gray, with minute barrings
and mottlings of black. The breast is black
with lines of white feathers across it low down,
and other white feathers in greater numbers ap-
pearing on the flanks and under the tail. On
the throat a black patch bordered by a white
band extending downward from each eye and
meeting under the throat. An area of naked
skin, bright vermilion, above each eye. Tail
black, each feather terminated by a spot of
deep orange yellow. Feet feathered to the
toes. Length sixteen to seventeen inches ; thus
the male.

The female is more like the ruffed grouse in
appearance, the general tone of coloring being
a rufous brown with crossbars and mottlings of

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SPRUCE GROUSE 5

dusky brown and black, though there are some
traces of the male bird's color plan also, such
as the white feathering on the flanks and below,
but there should be no difficulty in distinguish-
ing one from the other at a glance, since, aside
from its smaller size, the Spruce Partridge
lacks the "Elizabethan ruff" on the neck, has
no crest and is feathered to the toes.

In southern New England this bird is prob-
ably now never taken, though in the old days it
was seen occasionally. In Maine the Spruce
Grouse is very rare in the southern parts, be-
ing occasionally found in the neighborhood of
Umbagog lake in Oxford county, growing more
common as we approach the northern lumber
regions and on the wooded slopes of the moun-
tains, but still nowhere in the State equally
numerous with the ruffed grouse. They be-
come more abundant as we go farther north.

This bird is vastly inferior to the ruffed
grouse in the qualities for which the latter is
so highly prized by sportsmen, being neither so
crafty, strong and fleet of wing, nor, in a word,
so "game."

The northern lumbermen speak slightingly
of its intellect, giving it the complimentary title

6 FEATHERED GAME

of "fool hen," because, being unacquainted
with the kindly ways of man in dealing with
his weaker brethren, when an intruder comes
into its seldom-troubled domains it will only fly
up into the nearest tree to sit craning its neck
and staring while the clumsiest bungler that
ever pulled trigger may shoot it as it perches,
— even staying upon its roost to scold and strut
with its tail cocked over its back if the marks-
man's first trial should be unsuccessful. Thus
does it meet the usual fate of trustful inno-
cence. It is well known that in distant regions
where little hunted the ruffed grouse will some-
times do the same, though I think one would
meet with small success in an attempt to take
the "birch partridge" with a slipnoose on the
end of a stick, as may often be done with these
birds. When the Spruce Partridge has become
better acquainted with the gunners, and later
generations of hunted grouse have dodged shot
among the tree tops until a wholesome fear of
man has been implanted in their breasts, they
will not fail to meet the demands of the most
exacting sportsman or they are no true grouse.
A friend tells me of a scene he came upon in
Flagstaff, "in the Dead River country," where a

SPRUCE GROUSE 7

little schoolliouse liad been crowded up against
the wall of the woods. A knot of squealing
youngsters, wild with excitement, were danc-
ing around two of the older boys who, armed
with a Fourth of July cannon made of a .45
calibre shell wired upon a block of wood, were
trying to down a cock spruce grouse which was
scolding and strutting on a bough about ten
feet from the ground. Never did a gun crew
work more earnestly. Powder, turned into the
arm with trembling hands, was wadded with
long moss from the nearest tree — the projectile
the first pebble that would fit its muzzle. Then
one gunner gripped the block tightly and aimed
while the other scratched a match and applied it
to the touchhole. Bang! Wild screeches and
uproar! But Mr. Grouse merely gave his tail
another flirt and continued to strut. Now, any
boy present could have "fixed him" at the first
attempt with a rock, but no, — they were sports-
men raised in a sportsman's country and they
were going to shoot him or lose him like gentle-
men and thus be true to Dead River traditions.
So the war went on until a lucky shot tumbled
the bird from his perch minus half his head.
Because of the distance of their haunts from

8 FEATHERED GAME

civilization these, with the ptarmigans, will
probably be the last of our grouse to be exter-
minated. At present their only disturber is the
hunter of big game who may want a showy
"bird piece" for his dining room. It is a very
pretty fowl for such a purpose, too, but the
sportsman rarely kills more than the pair
needed, for at that season their table qualities
are not such as to induce him to put in the last
day of his stay in camp in shooting the heads
off Spruce Grouse to supply a toothsome mor-
sel for friends at home, as he generally does
with the ruffed grouse.

During a snowstorm the Spruce Grouse usu-
ally flies up into the densest clump of spruce or
fir trees in the neighborhood, and under their
thick, arching branches, snow-laden and bend-
ing, he finds shelter from the weather and food
in abundance. He may not leave the tree for
several days if undisturbed and the storm con-
tinues. The question of temperature troubles
him little, and with his wants all provided for,
the Spruce Grouse is more independent in his
mode of life than any of his feathered neighbors,
for when other birds are scurrying about for
something to eat and perhaps going hungry,

THE HEATH HEN 9

this gentleman finds plenty of food in his shel-
ter, and sits in comfort, "at ease in his own
inn."

The Franklin's Grouse, before mentioned, is
very near to this typical bird, the main differ-
ence being the lack of the terminal spots of
orange in the tail of the male; in his case the
tail is either plain black or narrowly tipped
with white, and the tips of the upper tail cov-
erts in both male and female are white. The
lady also has whitish instead of orange tips to
the tail feathers. If otherwise different there
is rather less of white in the rest of the plumage
of this than in the common species.

In choice of food, habits and mode of life the
two species are in perfect accord.

THE HEATH HEN

(Tympanuchus cupido.)

It is probable that in former times the
Prairie Chicken flourished in many places
suitable for its occupancy from the Atlantic to
its present home, but now the broken and scat-
tered remnants of those once thriving communi-
ties are to be found only in very small num-

10 FEATHERED GAME

bers and in a few widely separated localities.
In most of these places their value is recognized
and by rigid protection it is hoped to save this
interesting eastern race from extinction.

Unfortunately, from various causes, their in-
crease (if increase there be) is very slow, and
it will be long before their numbers will war-
rant anything less than complete protection. I
greatly fear that this eastern race is doomed.

Eastward of the present range of the Prairie
Chicken probably the only colony remaining is
that of Martha's Vineyard, though possibly a
few may be left on the eastern end of Long
Island. In both places they are rigidly pro-
tected by law, but there seems to be a complete
understanding among the natives dwelling near
the breeding grounds which permits any one of
them to gather Heath Hens in perfect security,
and makes the whole community a nest of spies
upon the stranger who may covet a specimen.

The market price of the Heath Hen's skin at
the dealer's shop runs from twenty-five to forty
dollars, though of course, no dealer dares quote
the same in his published lists. The remunera-
tion to the gunner as his portion of the spoil is

THE HEATH HEN 11

usually fixed at five dollars, which leaves a fair
margin of profit for the merchant.

In some of the places where the eastern race
once lived birds from the prairies have been re-
leased, but little has been said concerning them
and the result of the experiment is not gener-
ally known. Probably they have not increased
to the extent of becoming a pest to the farmers
on whose lands they dwell !

By no means the equal of the ruffed grouse
(to the writer's thinking the standard of game
bird excellence) in game qualities either of
brain or wing power, still the Chicken is a fine
bird and those sportsmen who are privileged to
shoot them are to be envied for many a pleasant
outing. We of New England have our compen-
sation, however, and should never complain
while wise laws and their growing respect
among our people combine to keep up our stock
of ruffed grouse.

For the most part the Prairie Hen of the
west is a dweller in the open rolling plains, tak-
ing to the timber only on rare occasions for shel-
ter from the weather or when much harassed.
The habits of the eastern species are in the

12 FEATHERED GAME

main those of the western representative, with
such variations as may result from its differ-
ent surroundings, such as a greater fondness
for brushy covers than has its brother of the
prairies. For safety's sake, and no doubt see-
ing the advantages which such a country af-
fords, it has become almost as much of a woods
bird as the ruffed grouse. It is probable that
the bird of the eastern section was always more
of a forest dweller than a citizen of the open.

The courting habits of the Heath Hen are
probably the same as those of the western race,
the males performing the same booming sere-
nade at sunrise, and it is natural to suppose
that they dance and fight as enthusiastically in
the mating season as is the custom of the typ-
ical bird of the plains.

The western bird has been more fortunate
than our own. With their enormous wheat
fields to fatten upon the Chickens might have
thriven wonderfully, and had it not been for the
market shooter and the slaughterer for count
they might have outlasted any game bird of the
continent; but ever the army of sportsmen
gains new recruits, and each year sees a greater
drain upon a diminishing supply. Newer

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THE HEATH HEN 13

grounds must be sought out to make a good
showing, and so each year the Chickens are
thinned out in their old haunts or driven far-
ther west. Unless existing game laws are re-
spected and enforced even more strictly than
heretofore the day is not far distant when these
fowl will be as rare in the west as to-day in their
former eastern homes. A feeder on grains and
seeds, berries and various insects, its flesh is
tender and of good flavor during its happier sea-
son though growing a trifle strong during the
winter months. It is considered a prime table
delicacy and thousands are killed for the mar-
ket each year, which fact leaves a fine chance
for game law improvement.

At the beginning of the shooting season the
Chickens lie very close, often running along
just in front of the dogs with heads showing
above the short grass, clucking nervously and
springing into the air by twos and threes with
steady and only moderately speedy flight, so
that a quick shot may use several cartridges be-
fore all are gone. It often happens that some
old male remains to rise unexpectedly when all
the covey is thought to have gone, and catch-
ing the tyro with empty or open gun, as often

14 FEATHERED GAME

as not escapes. At the season's opening they
are easy marks and readily killed, but when
later they "pack" for the winter they are
strong fliers and wary enough, giving only the
longest of shots. The shooting at this season
really calls for some degree of skill.

Our bird nests in June or even in the first
half of July, which seems late for this latitude,
making its nest on the ground in a brushy shel-
ter, and laying from six to twelve eggs, usually
nearer the smaller number. The eggs are of a
greenish gray color.

In its markings the Heath Hen does not dif-
fer materially from the ordinary form of
Prairie Chicken though of slightly darker col-
oring. The description of one will pass for the
other and is as follows: the Pinnated Grouse,
as this bird is named in the books, (so called
from the neck-tufts, like small wings, the dis-
tinguishing mark of the genus) varies in length
from sixteen to eighteen inches. Upper parts
dull pale yellow or whitish, regularly barred
across the body and wings with dark brown and
dusky ; throat pale yellow with a few scattering
speckles of dusky color. Under parts marked
much like the upper, but the barrings more

THE HEATH HEN 15

regular, though less distinct and on a paler
ground. Tail short, rounded, and carried more
erectly than is the usual manner with the
grouse, dusky in color, the feathers crossed by
uncertain barrings of lighter shade. Crissum
white. On each side of the neck are the long,
narrow tufts of feathers, the type character,
(in the western bird numbering ten or more and
somewhat rounded at the tips, but in the Heath
Hen less than ten in number, shorter and more
pointed at the ends) and beneath these are two
bare patches of skin which in the mating season
are distended with air until they resemble small
oranges. There is a slight crest on the head.
Feet feathered to the toes with short, hair-like
feathers. The female is marked like the male,
but is somewhat smaller, of lighter and less de-
cided colors. Her neck-tufts also are consider-
ably smaller. The eastern bird is, if in any way
different, a little smaller, darker colored, and
perhaps shorter-legged than is the typical bird
of the west. A distinct whitish spot on the tips
of the scapulars is also a distinguishing char-
acter of the eastern race.

The Heath Hens do not gather into packs as
winter comes on, (perhaps because, all told,

16 FEATHERED GAME

there are not enough of them to make a respect-
able pack) but seem to have adopted much the
same mode of life as the ruffed grouse — a pro-
ceeding which will tend to increase their chances
of long life, for so long as their jackets will
command a fair price at the collector's shop
someone will try to compass their destruction.

THE EUFFED GROUSE. PARTRIDGE.
BIRCH PARTRIDGE

(Bonasa umbellus.)

This noble fellow is a dweller in most of our
New England woodlands, thriving and flour-
ishing under conditions which would be fatal to
almost any other species. He is a hardy bird
with a range of great extent, for from Alaska 's
snow and ice to the sunny mountain slopes of
the Carolinas and Georgia this gallant grouse
is found, bearing equally well the breath of the
northern winter and the heat of the southern
sun. There is scarcely a portion of our coun-
try where, under fitting conditions, our hero (in
the south a pheasant, in the north a partridge,
and in point of fact neither the one nor the
other) is not found, and where found, resident.

THE RUFFED GROUSE 17

The species is not strictly migratory, though
in the northern parts of its range it moves
southward at times with the severest weather,
and may change its haunts at any time from
natural causes, so that a locality may be very
sparsely populated with grouse at one season
only to swarm with them the next.

In the different portions of their range these
birds vary in their coloring, the bird of Oregon
and neighboring States being in the most highly
developed specimens a deep chestnut with warm
reddish shades in his plumage, and the barrings
on the flanks and under parts much heavier
than in the typical bird. This variety is Bon-
asa umbellus sabinii in the scientists' list. The
Rocky Mountains have another variety, whose
range is from Alaska, in the Yukon valley,
southward to Colorado ; a race of paler coloring
and somewhat smaller size. The body color is
made up of grayish tones and has very little of
chestnut or reddish shades in the markings.
From its color scheme this is often called the
Gray Ruffed Grouse, Bonasa umbellus umbel-
loicles. In the intermediate districts they grade
imperceptibly one into the other. In the grouse
of Maine we find a wide variation in color.

18 FEATHERED GAME

Some specimens might almost pass for the most
distant varieties — red as Sabine's or as light
as those of the Rockies, and that, too, from the
same nest. There is still more "feather-split-
ting"— a division of the eastern race into the
variety, Bonasa umbellus togata, so named from
the size of the ruffs, said to be more developed
in this variety than in the typical bird. The body
color is darker and the barrings on the flanks
are heavier and blacker, also more and heav-
ier dark markings on the buff of the throat than
in the ordinary bird. This variety also aver-
ages of larger size. The birds included in this
classification are those of the northern and
northeastern portions of the continent, west-
ward to Manitoba. This is held to include the
ruffed grouse of all our northern tier of States,
westward as far as the Dakotas, and east and
north through Canada. Thus our bird of
Maine is a togata, but why need we care? By
any other name he 'd be as " foxy. ' ' Our Ruffed
Grouse cannot be improved upon whatever he
is called. Long may he flourish in our woods
and hills !

The typical bird is supposed to dwell

THE RUFFED GROUSE 19

throughout the remaining eastern and south-
eastern portions of the United States.

The Ruffed Grouse is about eighteen inches
long, erect, sprightly and graceful in carriage
and bearing, a pretty walker and a wonder-
fully speedy runner, as anyone may prove to
his entire satisfaction when he tries to capture
a wounded bird, for when to the aid of its nim-
ble feet it brings its half-spread wings, and
with its toes barely touching the ground, half
flies, half runs, only a good dog can overtake
him.

In color he is a beautiful chestnut brown,
marked and penciled with gray and brownish
black spots on neck, back, and breast — the col-
ors to blend with the shade of dead grass and
brown pine needles with the sunlight sifting
down through the trees. There is a slight crest
on his head, and on each side of the neck are the
beautiful, glossy feather tufts from which the
species takes its name. The "ruffles" are lus-
trous purplish-black or bronze-brown — are
smaller, it is said sometimes even lacking, in
the females, and in no case of these that I have
noticed have the dark feathers which make them

20 FEATHERED GAME

met across the forebreast as in the males. It
has been stated that the bronze ruff is the dis-
tinguishing mark of the hen, but my own obser-
vation would indicate that, in general, the red
bird often has a bronze ruff, and the black or
purplish ruff is found on the gray bird without
regard to sex. It may be that the bird of three
or four years of age is more likely to sport the
dark ruffles, but I am not prepared to state it
for a fact. The beautiful fan-like tail is finely
barred with black on a gray or red-brown
ground, with a broad subterminal band of black,
each feather ending with an ashy gray tip.
In the female the subterminal bar across the
tail feathers is usually broken, or at least much
less noticeable on the central pair, and while not
an invariable rule, it is, with the interruption
of the ruffle feathers across the breast, a pretty
safe mark for distinguishing the sexes. How
far these distinctions may hold in the typical
bird I know not. My experience has been al-
most entirely with the northern bird, togata,
which is surely not the least worthy member of
the family.

The male bird will average three or four
ounces heavier than the female, running from

THE RUFFED GROUSE 21

twenty-two to twenty-seven ounces. The heav-
iest bird of my own killing pulled the scales
down to twenty-eight ounces, and this with an
empty crop. The largest "partridge" that I
ever saw weighed made a record of twenty-
nine and one-half ounces. I am well aware that
"competent judges" will "estimate" and fur-
nish much more imposing figures, but I have
noticed that these do not always tally with the
scales.

During our driving New England snow-
storms partridges will sometimes take refuge
from the cutting blasts or for a night's shelter
from the cold by plunging from the wing into
the heaped-up drifts, thence to emerge when
the storm has passed. It is said that they are
at times closed in by an icy sleet following upon
the snow and making a crust through which
they cannot break. In such cases the unfortu-
nate prisoners are apt to furnish an unexpected
feast to some prowling fox whose famine-sharp-
ened nose has traced them out. This may cause
more destruction than is realized, but the dan-
ger is probably more theoretical than actual.
There is usually small need to burrow at all in
this latitude; furthermore, do you not think

22 FEATHERED GAME

that a heavy fall of snow in worse than zero
weather (and nothing less would drive them to
cover) with a rise of temperature sufficient to
thaw or rain, and then a "freeze," each follow-
ing the other and all taking place within the
probable space of ten hours' time is a very
great rarity even in a region as noted for
weather eccentricities as is our dear New Eng-
land ? From the many snug wigwams made by
the pendant branches of evergreens or sturdy
roofs of "junipers," over-arched with snow,
sheltering some storm-harassed partridge and
furnishing plenty of food of foxberry leaves
and berries, which I see in my own range of
woods I have small belief in any serious reduc-
tion in our grouse population from this cause.
In such shelters as these it is almost impossible
to be so closed in that Mr. Grouse cannot get
out when he desires. Many times when an ice-
storm has been blamed for the apparent scarc-
ity of grouse they have only departed on one of
their regular ' ' spring movings. ' ' Surely, when
the buds commence to swell and the "green
things growing" start up through the remain-
ing ice-blanket we do not expect the bird to stay

THE RUFFED GROUSE 23

in the thick growth and tall timber which made
his winter home.

The burrowing habit is common to nearly all
northern grouse. With this species it is more
common in the extreme northern part of its
range, where the snowfall is heavier and the
snow itself less likely to " crust."

Rocky, birch-clad hillsides, deep ravines
with tangles of brush and slender streams wind-
ing through their depths, — the thickest, most
impenetrable cover that the woods afford —
these are their favorite spots. A finer game
bird, a brainier dweller in the wilds it is hard
to find. All the more so when he has made the
acquaintance of Nimrod and his hammerless
gun. This for the bird near civilization, for
if we believe all we hear of him in the "big
woods" we shall have small respect for his
judgment. Still, we must make due allowance
in "a hunter's yarn," which, as we know, gives
us "the truth, the whole truth," — and as much
more as we can swallow.

About April they begin to mate and the
woods resound with the "long roll" of the male,
"drumming" his serenade to the lady of his

24 FEATHERED GAME

choice. Perhaps we should say "ladies," for
he usually has several wives and would take
more if he could get them. He struts up and
down on some old fallen tree, with his tail
erect and widespread to its fullest extent, then
suddenly dropping it and pressing it closely to
the log, his short, powerful and deeply con-
caved wings beat a continuous roll, slowly at
first, but rapidly increasing in speed and vol-
ume, then dying away again. This noise
sounds like the rumble of far-off thunder and
may be heard a long distance on a still day.
The manner in which this "drumming" is pro-
duced was a question for a long time undecided,
many different theories being advanced. The
old idea was that he struck his wings upon a
hollow log, but if this were the case how does
he drum upon stones, sound logs, or the top
rail of a fence! The solution most generally
accepted is that this strange music is caused by
the vibration of the stiff quill feathers in their
rapid motion through the air, these never touch-
ing the body. The sound is very difficult to
locate and from its peculiarly muffled tone ac-
curate judgment of the performer's distance is
almost impossible. The bird will use the same

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THE RUFFED GROUSE 25

spot for his drumming for a long time, coming
day after day to his chosen station. One old
"drumming log" is still in use near where I am
writing, although the screen of spruces for-
merly protecting it has been cut down these
three years and it is now fifty yards to the near-
est cover. Mr. Grouse, if he survives the perils
of the fall months, will return next season; if
not, another will "take the stump" in the good
cause and continue the business at the old stand.
The courtship over and happily ended, the
hen builds her nest in some secluded and safely
hidden nook and begins housekeeping. Her
home is a very modest affair, quite unpreten-
tious. On the ground, in the shelter of a fall-
en tree or in the shadow of a juniper bush a
small depression is rounded out and lined with
leaves, grass and dry pine needles — very little
of the artistic but all for convenience and util-
ity— simplicity itself. It contains from seven
to sixteen eggs, creamy white, rather pointed at
one end, and as may be guessed, when the
youngsters arrive the mother bird has no lack
of employment in caring for them, for at this
season she leaves the male entirely and sets up
housekeeping alone lest he destroy the nest and

26 FEATHERED GAME

eggs. When the chicks are half grown the
family is again united, the male bird usually
joining during the latter part of August.

The mother bird thus left to her own devices,
displays great bravery in defense of her young,
and will often fly at an intruder in the same
fashion as a hen defending her brood. I re-
member once when accompanied on a stroll
through the woods by a bull terrier dog, that
we came suddenly into a little opening among
the trees and well-nigh stepped into a brood of
little "cheepers." The dog being in advance,
mother partridge made a furious dash at him,
and when the astonished animal refused to be
frightened, she made still another desperate
charge right into his face, when he at once
struck her down and stood with this new species
of hen under his feet, making as though he
would finish her at once, but, being an obedient
fellow, and perhaps with the remembrance of
former whippings for chicken killing, he reluct-
antly let her go with no more damage than a few
ruffled feathers. She lost no time in getting
away when set free, for her point was won and
not a chick was in sight.

Failing by force to repel an invasion on her

THE RUFFED GROUSE 27

domain, she next tries cunning, and will drag
herself along the ground for some distance just
in front of her eager pursuer, and only when
he thinks to seize the crippled and wing-broken
bird does she dash from the ground and whiz
away to the safety of the nearest thick growth.
Meanwhile the young birds have crept into the
brush, slipped under dead leaves, flattened
themselves upon the ground, it may be at your
very feet, and lie there motionless, disappearing
as if by magic from a spot which one second be-
fore was fairly alive with chirping and peeping
little yellowish-brown fluffy balls running in
every direction. Once safely hidden they re-
main quiet and still until the danger is past and
they hear again the low, mellow call of the
mother bird as she gathers her brood to run and
feed as though nothing had happened. Few are
the farmers ' boys who have not ' ' 'Most caught
a pa'tridge, only" — and in that last word is the
whole matter in a nut-shell — they didn't, in just
this way. Yet it is no matter for wonderment
that Master Barefoot is deceived by these
tricks, for a more perfect piece of acting is not
to be seen.

Do you know a burnt patch in the woods, or a

28 FEATHERED GAME

clearing that the lumberman has made, now
growing up with blackberries, raspberries, and
all the underbrush which so quickly covers up
these unsightly scars on mother Nature's face?
Then some bright September morning while the
dew still glitters on blade and leaf, take your
dog and gun and beat it up. A little amphi-
theatre overgrown with berry bushes and low
brush, walled in on every side by a sturdy
growth of pines, spruces or hemlock, dark green
and solid in their masses. One lone dead stub
towers above the smaller and younger growth
of the clearing. Gray and desolate it stands,
bristling with the ragged and broken remains
of its former lusty youth, and at its feet the
bare ledge stone shows through its garment of
moss, pine needles and scanty grass. Here is
a low stump which a dozen changing seasons
have almost levelled with the ground, and on
its sides and at its base the marks of the par-
tridges' scratching feet as they search for the
grubs and worms, tenants at will of its inner
chambers. On one side a shallow, round hole
scooped out of the dry earth shows where the
bird has made his dust bath and lain basking in
the sun during the warm afternoons. And on

THE RUFFED GROUSE 29

this knoll — Whir-r-r! Quick, now! Too late!
He dives down a ravine at the right and when
he comes again into view he is too far away for
shot to harm him. Where was the dog? I
don't hear his bell. Ah! There he is — creep-
ing cautiously up to a clump of blackberry
bushes. Carefully, now, for every quick-witted,
sharp-sighted grouse in the clearing is on the
alert since that first bird tore down the gully at
full speed. See that puppy! Isn't that a pic-
ture for you? He perforins like a veteran!
He stiffens, and trembling with suppressed
joy and eagerness, turns a cautious glance be-
hind to see if you know the critical state of
things, as slowly turns back again and stands a
marble statue against the background of green
waving brakes and moss-grown stumps. A sec-
ond later you hear the resentful scolding —
''Quit-quit! Quit-quit!" — a rapid patter of
nimble feet on the dry leaves — Whir-r-r-r!
Away he goes — a mere brown streak at light-
ning speed!

Perchance you have stopped their headlong
rush many times before; in that case you may
stop this one — if you have luck. It may be
that this is your first experience, when it is

30 FEATHERED GAME

probable that you will stand open-mouthed and
stare with all the eyes in your head, until, diving
into the green depths a hundred yards away,
goes another lost opportunity. You may even
do as did another of my acquaintances near the
beginning of his sylvan career. He had stood
"at gaze" at every rising grouse and was
empty-handed in a cover where by moderate
shooting skill he might have made a fair bag,
for the season was just beginning and the
young birds were lying well. He declared he
would do better at the next point (as they all
do) and when the next bird flushed he threw his
gun to his shoulder and shouted, "Bang!" with
all his lungs. He had the right idea, however,
and can now hold his own with the most of
them.

That roaring, rushing flight is likely to con-
fuse any but a veteran. Yet no owl can fly
more noiselessly than he when he is so minded.
I know many a good duck- and snipe-shot that
will invariably forget to shoot when Mr. Grouse
dashes out — Steady, now! Another point!
Whir-r-r ! Away he goes and as you pull trig-
ger he swerves suddenly from his course and
you have missed him. Yes, your muttered re-

THE RUFFED GROUSE 31

mark was apt and appropriate, but better luck
next time. The dog moves up and points just
where the last bird burst out from among the
junipers, and you laugh and say, ''One on you,
old boy!" and come carelessly up to stand by
his side as you reload. At the snap of your
gun as you close it another bird dashes out al-
most from beneath your feet. What a chance !
Straightaway, and as steady as a standing
mark! The shot of a lifetime! Bang! And
as the gentle breeze carries off the thin blue
haze of the nitro you catch a glimpse of his
falling body. Thud! The strong wings beat
a rapid tattoo upon the dead leaves, scattering
the brown pine needles, then are still. The
feathers drift down wind in a cloud, and re-
loading as you go, you hasten to gather him in.
For a short time the fun is fast and furious;
the covey puts for the thick of the woods singly
and in pairs, leaving toll, let us hope, and giv-
ing you rare sport. When all have left the
open you go down into the gully where the noon-
day sun scarcely penetrates. At the bottom a
slender stream complains and gurgles as it
tumbles over mossy stones and twists under
fallen tree trunks. There he goes! Your gun

32 FEATHERED GAME

is at your shoulder but you see him only dimly
and mark his course mostly by the shaking
twigs and so decide to wait until he tops yon
fallen tree and comes more clearly into view.
Thus you learn that you must take this fellow
when you can, for he knows better than to rise
into your open view like that. Such a move
might do for a woodcock, but this master of
sylvan strategy knows a trick worth two of
that. He dives below the log, runs into the
rankly growing brakes and fifty yards beyond
again takes wing to fly in safety into a thick
hemlock on the side hill. You lower your gun
and exclaim, "Well, I'll be hanged!" (or words
to that effect), and a red squirrel, sole witness
of your defeat, goes scurrying up the spruce
tree at your side and jeers and chuckles and
"sasses" you with all the wild-wood impudence
at his command. No opportunity should be al-
lowed to pass unimproved if you are to make
a good score. Your percentage of kills to car-
tridges used is bound to be small, so don't try
to "fatten your average" by picking shots.
Under ordinary conditions one cannot make a
bag of Ruffed Grouse and be sparing of his
ammunition. It is often necessary to shoot

THE RUFFED GROUS 33

through the brushy screen at the sound of their
wings — pull trigger at the glimmer of a feather,
or through the leaves where the bird may be —
taking every chance, however slight, to bring
this game to bag. I think all ' ' brush gunners ' '
will agree that this is not the easiest bird to hit
when once on the wing — a mere flash of quick-
moving, roaring wings, and a glimmer of sun-
light on his russet-brown back — gone! Per-
haps the cunning rascal marked where you
stood and ran swiftly to get a thick hemlock be-
tween himself and your gun, then a leap into
the air, an arrowy flight, and when you have
hurried to one side to get a sight at him he is
two gunshots away.

"Don't they ever give you a sitting shot?"
0, yes ! When you are tangled up on the points
of a wire fence, with one barb stuck into the
middle of your back just where it cannot be
reached with either hand, and another induce-
ment to profanity has a grip on the leg of your
trousers, — at such times a grouse will often
"flap" lazily from the ground into a tree right
over your back and perch where you can see
him only by twisting your neck almost off, but
shoot! 0, no! There he will sit and criticise

34 FEATHEEED GAME

the language in which you voice your benevo-
lent wishes for the future welfare of the invent-
or of that style of fence (may they be fulfilled!)
until he sees signs of the barbs letting go their
hold, when he is away like a bullet, his wings a
mere haze as they roar through the branches.

Occasionally the farmer's cur is "trained"
for a "pa'tridge dawg;" that is to say, his nat-
ural propensities to bark and "yap" are turned
to some account He runs in upon the young
flocks, which instantly take to the trees; the
dog then makes such a noise with his continua1
yelping and running about that the birds see
and hear nothing but this miserable intruder,
and so allow the mighty hunter to creep unob-
served within easy distance, maybe to take a
resting shot at their motionless bodies. Often
honest cocker spaniels are degraded by this
low practice. In the mind of the sportsman this
stands almost as high as driving a doe to water
and paddling a canoe alongside to blow her
brains out with a charge of buckshot.

There is a widespread notion that when a
flock is thus "treed" a pot-shooter may secure
several birds before they will take alarm and
fly if he will take care to shoot the lowest one

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first and thus avoid alarming the flock by the
dead birds' tumbling down among them. I do
not say this cannot be done; I only say that I
have never seen it done — hope I never shall —
and while this may take place in the northern
wilderness, the shooter who counts on getting
more than one chance at a roosting flock in the
covers near civilization is laying up material
for his own disappointment. The Ruffed
Grouse in my locality, at least, have passed this
stage in their intellectual development these
many years, and in the east generally, the
sportsman fairly earns all of these birds which
his skill and good fortune combine to bring into
his hands.

Though any lawful season is a good time to
hunt this game, most sportsmen prefer the
sport when October's frosts and winds have
swept some of the brown leaves from the
branches in the covers, when with the glorious
autumn weather, the brilliant colors of the flam-
ing maples, the softer tones of oak and birch,
chestnut and beech trees, the life-giving Octo-
ber air, together with a fair prospect of captur-
ing this gallant bird, there could scarcely be a
better season to put in a happy day in the

36 FEATHERED GAME

woods. Add the fact that the bird itself, now
full-fledged and confident in the powers of its
wings, lies closer at this latter part of the sea-
son, thus giving a much better chance, and one
may easily see why the sportsman will prefer
this month. Many are the fine opportunities
on the rocky hillsides where the leafless
birches show their white shafts against the dull
gray ledges; where the dead leaves, frost-
killed and damp on the mossy rocks, give back
no sound to the stealthy foot-fall of the gunner.
Among the bare brown stems and boughs the
grouse goes away like a shooting star and is
seen much more clearly than in September's
profusion of green leaves. It is well for two
men to work together in such a place, as the
Grouse will commonly fly up over the ledge
when flushed, and there will be more chance of
capturing the birds if one gun be posted on the
lower level and its companion be on the ridge.
If the bird is not shot at the chances are that
it will alight just over the brow of the hill and
lie close next time. If, however, the gunner be
above him when he darts away he must trust to
luck and his own eyes to tell him the direction
which his intended victim takes, as commonly

THE RUFFED GROUSE 37

the bird will fly straight down to the bottom and
when out of sight turn sharply to one side for
another hundred yards.

If I may have but one month for partridge
shooting give me November. Lowery skies, the
threat of a storm in the chill air, when the birds
are putting in provisions for the days of hun-
ger which a snowstorm makes; or the first
bright day after the storm has passed and the
birds have come out on the sunny spots to bask
in the warmth they now appreciate. I shall
ever hold one old hill in warm remembrance for
many days of glorious sport along its rocky
spurs. A high, gray ledge, pine- and hemlock-
covered on the crown and base, its slopes clad
with sumac, blackberry bushes, wild rose
bushes, scattered scrub pines and small birches,
the naked rocks half buried in the junipers, and
a few lordly chestnut trees towering over all.
My last day of the season as a sample of many :
two days of rain and sleet, cold and miserable,
and on the third day the storm breaking and
the afternoon sun flooding the hillsides. From
a sense of duty I had hunted the alder coverts
and the thick growths which had sheltered them
on other days, where a few difficult shots had

38 FEATHERED GAME

made no returns. But we are on the old ledge
in more open cover at last. Scarcely have we
cleared the denser growth when the dog comes
to a halt. A warning glance at his master and
he commences trailing. Through the thickets
which straggle away from the main body of the
woods, — advanced guards creeping out among
the rocks, — down into the junipers below, on
and on, stopping here and there to point as the
bird halts, ever careful lest he start the game
too soon, waiting until his master gains a place
where he may shoot if the bird rises. Aha!
Frozen for keeps! Just the tip of his white
stern showing past the green wall of the juni-
pers. Whir-r-r-r-r ! Bang! Bang! "Da — er
— Thunderation!" Away scales Mr. Grouse,
dropping down the hillside like an arrow slant-
ing earthward after a flight. Near the foot he
turns and careers out over the tops of the trees
to disappear among them three hundred yards
away. "Well, little dog, a good pointer and a
good gun are clean wasted on such a master.
But how should I know he would throw a sum-
mersault like that? Both loads went yards
over his back and I defy anyone to have pointed

THE RUFFED GROUSE 39

a gun-muzzle below him. Well, better luck
next time, let us hope. ' '

Fifty yards farther on, the same careful
drawing to a final "stagey" pose. Whir-r-r-r!
and a big cock partridge dashes up into the shel-
ter of the birches above us. Bang! "Fetch
him, good boy! That's better. That's" — In
the act of holding the bird to his master's hand
the dog has wheeled and pointed, carefully put-
ting down his trophy and moving in a step or
two. The monologue flags, then ceases. Right
at the dog's side I wait, then give a low chirrup
for him to go on. This one I must have and
things look most promising. Whir-r-r-r!
Bang! "What!" Bang! and at the second
shot the bird tumbles in a cloud of feathers, a
long forty yards away, close to the thick woods
on the hilltop. Together, dog and I, we scram-
ble through the briars to the summit, the
pointer just a bit in front. He pulls up short
and points. "All right, old man. Yes, it was
just here he fell. Fetch! No? Well, I can
pick him up myself," and so I do — er — not!
With a thunderous roar of hurrying wings the
bird flushes under foot, rocketing into the tree

40 FEATHERED GAME

tops, followed by two hasty shots, one from the
hip, the other with the gun-butt under my arm-
pit, and taken completely unaware, both
charges tear great rents through the yellow-
leaved chestnuts and screening pines, but for
the bird only causing more haste where already
speed was not lacking. My dog, with a comical
wriggle of his tail to show his appreciation of
the joke on his master, takes a few steps to the
left and brings to my astonished gaze the bird
we had seen fall. When shall I learn to trust
entirely to that keen nose and fine wit which is
by far the most important member of our part-
nership f

With the last trophy safely stowed, we move
on to further conquests. Over a stone wall out
into a low spot between two spurs of the hill.
An old apple tree and a few thick pines make
the setting of a picture which has for a centre
of interest the motionless figure of the white
pointer dog. Forty yards away two grouse
rise and tear away up hill. Two hasty shots
sent after them just as they turn the crest of the
ridge never ruffle a feather, but the reports
start four more close at hand, which offer the
easiest of shots to my empty weapon. I rush

THE RUFFED GROUSE 41

a couple of cartridges into the chambers and
aim at the hindmost just as the woods are clos-
ing in upon it, but return to sanity, just then
catching sight of the fact that all this time old
Level-head hasn't moved a muscle. In an in-
stant more I stand beside him, pull my hat down
a bit tighter, draw a couple of long breaths,
test the safety catch of the gun to be sure it is
in the right place, and by these processes of
mental philosophy manage to steady my nerves
a trifle. A low cluck to the dog and he moves
in, his tail wagging ever so slightly. Again he
stops, and at my approach up jump two big
fantails, not ten feet away, bursting out from
the junipers with the roar of a tornado. A
quick snapshot (a clear case of suicide on the
bird's part, for I know not where I held) ac-
counts for one, and holding well over the other,
who is climbing skyward to clear the trees, he,
too, comes down ! Can I believe it? A double !
This is not one of the shots I forget when re-
counting this day's doings!

Up on the hill-top where we go in pursuit we
find the other members of the covey. But
things are different here. Cover is plenty and
though the birds lie close enough, the ever-

42 FEATHERED GAME

greens behind which they invariably flush make
impervious screens for certain noisily-departing
forms going comet-like among the trees. I note
that I do not kill each bird that rises ; that how-
ever I plan to get a shot the bird makes other
arrangements. I remember the newspaper
hero who has killed a thousand "partridges" in
a day on his English estate and wonder what
his average would be here. Still, in no nig-
gardly spirit, I continue driving good ammuni-
tion into the tree trunks and shooting unprofit-
able holes into the "circumambient ether;" but
this is a part of the fun — this, and the prying of
rose thorns out of my shins, to be done later on.
So we press on, ever keeping up a brisk action
with the rear guard, hoping to drive them
through this cover into another rock-, birch-,
and scrub-pine paradise beyond the thick.
Here we have a better chance and again we find
our opportunity. The dog is beating up hill
and down across my path. He whirls and
stands braced as though he feared someone
might push him against the bird. I rush to a
flat, table-like rock which commands a good
view of the surroundings and stand facing the
dog, awaiting developments. Scarcely am I

THE RUFFED GROUSE 43

placed when almost from under foot out dashes
a big red beauty and curls around my head in a
nerve-tangling curve. I try to turn with him
and just clear his steering gear with the first
cartridge, to steady down and make a good
clean kill with the second as he is entering the
tall timber. Mr. Dog retrieves him proudly,
glad to see his master score an average of one
kill to five cartridges.

It is grand sport to stop their swift career (if
you can, for not every bungler can do this
trick) and it makes the pulses leap to see them
come hurtling to the ground. The birds are
now no weaklings — no half-fledged youngsters
still running with the mother, but plump and
well-grown beauties and the best game which
the New England gunner, or for that matter
any other student of the smoothbore, ever
brings to bag.

For success all the requisites of the true
sportsman and the highest quality of work by
the dog are needed. The bird may lead your
dog a long chase through the timber, over
rocks, through briars and brush, keeping him
"roading" and " pointing" until both have dis-
tanced the gun, and at such times he makes a

44 FEATHERED GAME

sore trial of your treasure's temper and
staunchness. Next time perhaps he may flush
from under your very feet. In most cases his
flight is not longer than from three to four hun-
dred yards, so that, knowing your ground, you
may get another chance if you fail to stop him
the first time. It takes a good load of shot and
that well placed, too, if this bold ro\er is to be
your prize. He will fly till his last breath, —
yes, and set his wings and scale even after that ;
or if only wing-broken will run and skulk and
crawl into brush heaps until pursuit is useless.
Many a grouse carries his death with him as he
flies the hunter, when, if only followed, he would
be found perhaps a hundred yards away, still
and lifeless. They are the "grittiest" birds
that dwell in our land.

Perhaps some brother sportsman has seen a
grouse when wounded and seemingly crazed, fly
straight upward, struggling to the last gasp,
then all at once collapse and come tumbling to
the earth like a stone. Usually such birds are
found to be shot through the eyes and brain. I
lost one once in this manner, for he fell into the
top of a clump of unclimbable "old original

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THE RUFFED GROUSE 45

pines" in such a fashion that there was no dis-
lodging him.

One word as to the Ruffed Grouse's habit be-
fore the dog : I believe the dog is the most im-
portant element in the grouse shooter's good-
or ill-fortune. I know that many sportsmen
berate our hero because "he won't lay to a
dog." There are cases where we cannot blame
the bird. Neither you nor I would stay in the
neighborhood of a dog which tears through the
brush like an express train, or whose master is
continually yelling commands and compliments
at his riotous brute. It is enough to shatter
stronger nerves than those of Mr. Grouse.
Alas, the language we have heard! And that,
too, directed at dogs that a few short hours be-
fore were vaunted by their masters as simply
matchless in their glorious perfections of nose,
brain and "bird-sense."

For success in grouse-shooting a cautious,
close-working dog is the most important thing
in the outfit ; one that loves to pit his own brains
and skill against the craft of the bird ; whose eye
is ever alert to the slightest sign from his mas-
ter, realizing that the gun also has a part to

46 FEATHEBED GAME

play in the day's sport; who only wants a low
whistle or a wave of the hand for guidance,
needing no spoken command. I lay great stress
upon silence, believing that most wild creatures
are less afraid of the report of a gun than of the
human voice. The successful grouse dog is the
most finished product of the dog trainer's art,
making glad the heart of his master. If your
four-footed friend excels in his work on ruffed
grouse be satisfied that he is a good performer
on any game bird, and will never cause his mas-
ter to blush for him in any company. ' l A mar-
vel," you say? My dear sir, the only marvel
is that we will not take the pains to bring our
dogs to this pitch of perfection.

The good grouse dog is rare. Not every
puppy can be trained to the requirements. It
almost seems that the good one on ruffed
grouse, like a poet, "is born, not made." Cer-
tainly poets are the heavier and less valuable
crop. Training will do much for the dog, but
all too often this branch of his education is con-
fined to his first experience, when with all a
puppy's life pulsing through his veins, his cup
of joy bubbling over, he comes suddenly upon a
covey of ruffed grouse. That divine scent

THE BUFFED GROUSE 47

wells up into bis nostrils, and, wild with the
joy of that soul-stirring moment, amazed at
their roaring wings, is it wonderful that he
does not perform like a veteran? My sports-
man friend, did you yourself score on your first
hurtling grouse? Have you always controlled
your startled nerves, making the most of every
favorable opportunity? I trow not! Then
shall we not have a little patience and with
more experience reverse our first unfavorable
decision? Maybe a good grouse dog is lost
there — who knows? But the puppy gets no
chance to atone for his mistake and commonly
is never again allowed to look at ruffed grouse
if his master can prevent, so that this is all the
schooling he gets in the ways of hunting this
bird. His master, instead of taking the pains
needful to teach his companion, becomes at
once a woodcock enthusiast and condemns the
grouse and all who admire him, finishing the
puppy's education on "timberdoodles" alone.
Yet it is only a matter of patience and tact, and
more of the same patience and tact, but great is
the reward thereof!

Having in mind the nature of ruffed grouse
haunts, the difficulty of two legs keeping pace

48 FEATHERED GAME

with four, and the ease with which a hunter may
go wrong if his dog, for the moment out of sight
in the thick growth, makes a sudden change of
direction in the trailing, I believe that the dog
that is never more than forty yards from the
gun, — better yet if he keeps closer and no pot-
terer even if he does, my dear unbeliever —
that stops instantly at the first whiff of scent
that touches his nostrils ; trails slowly and care-
fully, knowing just how far he may crowd his
game and never overstepping that limit, — will
get for his master more and better shots than
the more dashing, field-trial, wider ranging dog
of better nose and even greater bird-finding
ability. We all know, however, that this latter
style is the more fashionable — and the more
common: Also that their owners are very en-
thusiastic over wood-cocking — (and it is a noble
sport; far be it from me to disparage it) — and
are apt to speak disrespectfully of the grouse
because it has so little of the accommodating
disposition of their favorite, who generally
does his best to help the sportsman score a kill,
even patiently waiting until the gunner can
hunt up his dog when he has at last ceased
whistling and shouting and has decided that his

THE RUFFED GROUSE 49

prize beauty is "somewhere on a point, (that is,
if he hasn't run away clear out of the county.")
The parenthesis, of course, under his breath
along with some other comments which do not
sound as well. Now Mr. Grouse does not be-
lieve in such tactics : as a result he will be plan-
ning his annual increase to the game supply
long after the moths have finished that dining
room ornament which was "The last woodcock
killed in this section, Sir! And it's too bad
they were all killed off, isn't it?"

The Ruffed Grouse is a great rover. When
the young become strong and able to fly well
the flocks roam through the woods from one
feeding ground to another — here to-day, to-
morrow gone. In the fall they haunt the hard
wood growths along the lake shores, and the
rocky, oak-grown margins of the sea, moving
from place to place as they tire of the spot or
food begins to fail, crossing to near-by islands,
for however much they may dislike to fly
across bodies of water in the "Big Woods,"
they do not hesitate to make long flights over
the small arms of the sea, and in more culti-
vated districts, flying on occasion a mile at a
stretch. As the season advances they come

50 FEATHERED GAME

nearer to the farms and orchards, and old apple
trees in the woods or a deserted orchard hid-
den away from travelled roads and near the
forests are favorite spots and much frequented
by them, as are likewise in their proper season
the gullies where the ripe, red "thorn plums"
are to be had for the picking. In berry and
fruit time their food is almost entirely of this
sort. In fact, from his readiness to eat almost
any of Mother Nature's cookery the Ruffed
Grouse is in prime condition the year around.

There is scarcely a game bird so satisfactory
from all points of view as is our hero : a brave,
strong-flying bird, a brainy and worthy an-
tagonist from the sportsman's standpoint, and
in the estimation of the epicure a great deli-
cacy.

Although numerous attempts have been made
to domesticate the Ruffed Grouse nearly all
such have failed. The wild instincts of the free
forest rover have usually triumphed over the
easy but dull round of barnyard life even in
chicks raised and cared for by the domestic
hen, as they have almost invariably departed
for the woods as soon as they were able to shift
for themselves, or if unable to escape have

THE WILLOW GROUSE 51

pined away and died for the lack of their for-
est freedom.

Would that someone might solve this prob-
lem of grouse-breeding if only to aid in restock-
ing our covers. But the prospect brightens
each year with the education of our people
and the consequent growing sentiment in favor
of rigid game protection. Give the Ruffed
Grouse half a chance and he will take care of
the matter of future game supply. There is
nothing in our wilds so thoroughly able to take
care of itself as Mr. Bonasa Umbellus. Let us
be duly thankful therefor.

THE WILLOW GROUSE. PTARMIGAN.

(Lagopus lagopus.)

Very rare in New England. When found it
is only in the northernmost sections and in the
coldest weather, when a few straggle away
from the great flocks which come down out of
the north at the approach of winter, for it is
partially migratory and changes quarters
southward at this season. In earlier times
these birds seem to have been not uncommon in
northern and eastern Maine in the winter

52 FEATHERED GAME

months, but of late years very rarely indeed is
one taken.

The Willow Grouse inhabits a wide range of
country, including the northern parts of Eu-
rope and Asia and the whole of North America
from the northern boundary of the United
States far into the Arctic regions, in summer
spreading out over the almost treeless "barren
lands" which extend along the shores of the
Arctic ocean, and in winter retreating to the
shelter of the thick woods which stretch away
northwesterly mile after mile across Canada
from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

It is a dweller on the rocky heaths and
swampy grounds, and not so fond of the woods
as are most northern grouse. As a rule, the
Ptarmigan takes to the forests only when
obliged to do so for safety or when driven by
stress of weather, coming out into the openings
as soon as ever the sun gets a bit of ground un-
covered in the spring.

During the summer months they live upon
berries and insects. Through the long Arctic
winter they subsist on the buds of the brush
and dwarfed willows which are scattered
through the frozen bogs.

They are somewhat nocturnal in their habits,

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THE WILLOW GROUSE 53

mostly preferring to feed about sundown or
during the night.

In their breeding habits they resemble the
rest of the family, building their nests upon the
ground, generally at the base of some great
rock or in a clump of stunted birches or Arctic
willows or at the edge of an opening in the
woods. They lay from eight to ten eggs, of a
buff color, heavily blotched with dark red-
brown spots.

Unlike the ruffed grouse Mr. Ptarmigan is a
good husband and assists in the upbringing of
his offspring, — rather an unusual thing among
the grouse family, where as a rule the male is
a polygamous old rascal, perhaps because he is
unable to choose between the fair ones and so
plays no favorites. Therefore when disturbed
with their young instead of resorting to the
craft and strategems of the "partridge" in
similar stress, the male bird will dash about the
head of an intruder, in his desperate attack
coming near enough to be killed with a stick if
one be mean enough to do such a thing. All this
time the young are running away and hiding in
obedience to the mother bird's anxious warn-
ings.

Fortunately for them their enemies are

54 FEATHERED GAME

nearly all in fur and feathers, the Arctic fox
and snowy owl, though the Indian takes a gen-
erous share, generally during the fall migra-
tions, when, as they are easily trapped, the
Ptarmigan becomes an important item in his
diet. Since they dwell in a country full of
larger game and because of their distance from
sportsmen of shot-gun propensities, they are
not much hunted, but those sportsmen who
have made shooting trips to Newfoundland
have enjoyed rare sport with them and are en-
thusiastic in their praise. They claim that the
Ptarmigan is equal to any of the grouse family
in game qualities and speak highly of its habits
before the dog. Its flesh, also, ranks well, that
of the young bird being especially delicate.

When they rise from the ground their wings
do not make such a clatter as do those of the
ruffed grouse when he starts, — probably be-
cause of the soft and fluffy quality of the feath-
ers,— but their flight is easy, strong and well
sustained.

Their plumage during the breeding season
and summer months is a mixture of white and
reddish brown, finely barred with black. No
two specimens will be found to be marked ex-

THE WILLOW GROUSE 55

actly alike. The dress of each bird is contin-
ually changing, — (they moult three times a
year) — varying the proportion of each colored
area and seeming to put on the new coat a
feather at a time before the last suit is fairly
donned. In winter they are snow white ex-
cept the tail feathers, which are black, white
tipped, and the wing quill shafts, also black.
There is a red patch above the eye as in the
spruce grouse. The legs and feet are covered,
even down to the ends of the toes, with fine,
hair-like feathers which make them a good pair
of snow shoes. It needs sharp eyes to see them
where they crouch in the snow when clad in
their winter garb, lying motionless in the drifts,
or when in summer their coat of reddish brown
matches so well the dead grass and bare rocks
of their chosen wilderness.

If pursued they may dash off to a safe dis-
tance, then coming to earth may run a little
way, then suddenly squat upon the ground, re-
maining motionless until the danger has passed
or they are forced to fly to prevent capture. If
the snow be on the ground they may dash head-
long into the loose drifts, making their way
well into them, to remain hidden; or mayhap

56 FEATHERED GAME

passing some distance through them to creep
carefully out and fly noiselessly away when
safe to do so. They often dive into the snow
for shelter or to pass the night in winter, dash-
ing into it from the air and working their way
far under the drifts for safety's sake. They
are said to be very careful not to touch their
feet to the snow in entering it in this little piece
of strategy, in order not to leave a scent for
any prowling fox to trace them out.

In size the Willow Grouse is a trifle smaller
than the spruce grouse — (length about four-
teen inches) — but its heavily feathered body
looks larger than it really is.

Out of the ten different races of Ptarmigans,
many so nearly alike that even a scientist can-
not always name them to a certainty without
the knowledge of the locality in which a speci-
men was taken, this is the only visitor to New
England, and this one but rarely.

The bird at the left in the plate is in the win-
ter dress; the bird at the right is in the sum-
mer plumage.

THE "QUAIL" 57

THE "QUAIL." BOB WHITE.
PARTRIDGE.

(Colinus virginianus.)

Because of the wide extent of country over
which he dwells, and because of his large ac-
quaintance among the shooting fraternity the
"Quail" may make a strong claim for the
honor of being the prime game bird of America
— the bird known and with good reason appre-
ciated by the largest number of our sportsmen.
There are many good reasons for this popular-
ity, chief of which are his thoroughly game
habits, close lying before the dog, beautifully
direct flight, and the comparatively open na-
ture of the country in which he is usually found.
All these combine to make quail-shooting mag-
nificent sport.

"Bob White," as he gives us his name in his
merrier moods, is found on the continent of
North America from the Atlantic ocean to the
Rocky mountains, from Canada to the Gulf,
has crossed the border into the northern states
of the Mexican Republic, and is a citizen of the
island of Cuba. The bird has also been intro-

58 FEATHERED GAME

duced into several localities west of the Rockies
and is said to be thriving and flourishing in
these new homes.

Unhappily for the sportsmen of Maine, New
Hampshire and Vermont, in New England the
Quail is resident only in the southern part, and
is at any season but a rare straggler northward
of Massachusetts. It is likely that our winter
weather is too severe for him, or it may be
that we lack grains and seeds for him to feed
upon when the snows have come. At all events,
though the sportsmen's clubs of these sections
have often liberated Quails in the hope that
they might thus make a valuable addition to
our list of game birds, they have rarely stayed
with us longer than the first season, raising
our hopes with their cheerful whistling through
one brief summer and then disappearing to
return no more. Whether they have moved
southward at the approach of cold weather (by
no means an unusual occurrence in the north,
I think) or have failed to survive the winter,
seems to be an open question. It is probable
that the former is often the true reason for
their disappearance, for with the small chance of
a grain or seed diet when New England's winter

THE " QUAIL" 59

has fairly closed in upon us, their prospect for
food must be slight indeed, and, knowing this,
Bob White takes no chances. In most cases
the birds for stocking our covers have been ob-
tained from southern localities, which fact
would seem to argue a less fitness to endure
the rigors of our winters. If the experiment
were to be tried with birds procured from the
northern part of the habitat of the Quail per-
haps the result would be more satisfactory;
surely there would be a larger percentage to
survive the winter among those that remained
with us. It is probable that such birds could
be successfully transplanted here, needing only
a chance to forage in some buckwheat field dur-
ing the two coldest months. (Just notice how
rarely a Quail is found frozen to death with
a full crop.) At all other seasons they would
surely be bountifully supplied with everything
necessary to Quail comfort. "Bob White"
has been successfully transplanted into Sweden,
and it certainly seems as though he ought to do
as well in northern New England. But where
we have failed Dame Nature is doing better,
and little by little these birds are becoming ac-
customed to our climate and conditions and are

60 FEATHERED GAME

gradually spreading northward as well as west-
ward. We northerners may well be pleased to
gain such gallant little citizens. In these new
surroundings they are said to be taking more
and more to grouse habits, both in strategy and
in mode of life, evincing a disposition to hide in
trees when much harried, and for the night —
traits which are not common further south.

All through the fall and winter months the
birds keep together in good-sized flocks, but
at the approach of the breeding season the peace
and quiet of the covey is changed for fierce and
savage contests among the males in strife for
the favors of their charmers. The covey be-
gins to break up, and as each valiant little
knight wins his fair lady by force of arms they
seek together some fitting nook in the fence
corner or in the edge of the brush and there
make their home. About May they begin to
build their nest, making it upon the ground, of
leaves and dry grasses. Often it is deep and
cup-shaped, sometimes domed over and hav-
ing an entrance on the side. The number of
eggs varies. Probably ten youngsters to a
brood is a liberal estimate for the north, though
anywhere from twelve to twenty eggs or even

THE "QUAIL" 61

more may be found in a nest, in which case they
are arranged in tiers with the small ends inward
and downward. Usually the larger settings
are the result of "co-operative housekeeping"
when two females use the same nest. Good
husband that he is, the male bird does his
share of the duties of incubation as well as
keeping watch while the female sits. He also
aids in the care of the young when they have
made their appearance, covering them with
wings and body in the same fashion as does
the female, and in case of danger to the brood
boldly confronts the enemy while the mother
bird conducts the retreat. If the female is
alone at such times she acts much as does the
ruffed grouse in a like crisis, feigning to be
crippled and keeping just out of the reach of
her pursuer she leads him a long chase, sud-
denly recovering and dashing away if the pur-
suit is too close. The brood meantime scatters
in a dozen different directions, gathering again
when the old bird sounds the "assembly."
After the young birds have gained more
strength all this is easily avoided by their tak-
ing to wing — each one heading for the nearest
growth and seeking concealment in the brush.

62 FEATHERED GAME

In the Southern States it is likely that two
broods are sometimes raised in a season but
this is certainly not the rule in New England.
Where this does occur the male assumes all re-
sponsibility for the first brood, thus leaving
his mate free to care for the newcomers.

During the summer Bob White leads a merry,
happy-go-lucky life, with few, if any cares, but
the winter months for such as remain in New
England after the fall shooting is over must
be a dreary time of hardship and hunger. In
many cases they wander away to more favored
districts further south. All through the north-
ern range there seems to be a partial migra-
tion of Quail southward at the approach of win-
ter— not all, but a part of the Quail population
leaving their summer homes until the spring
commences. Those which remain to brave our
snow and cold are apt to haunt the settlements
and the outskirts of the villages, often inviting
themselves to breakfast with the farmer's hens
and becoming for the time quite tame. The
Quail has been domesticated with much success
and breeds quite readily in captivity.

Though not brilliantly colored "Bob White"
is a beautiful bird. His back and wings are

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THE "QUAIL" 63

of a reddish brown hue, mottled and banded
with yellow, black, and a bluish gray, which
gives his plumage a purplish bloom. His
breast is of the same reddish tinge, fading into
a grayish white, these colors irregularly barred
with fine jet black lines. The feathers of the
top of the head are a trifle elongated and may
be erected into a slight crest. A white band
beginning at the base of the bill runs over each
eye to the nape. On the throat is a broad
patch of snowy white, bordered with black,
as is also the line above the eye, just men-
tioned.

The female is similarly marked, though paler
in hue, and the lines over the eyes and the patch
on the throat are dull yellow. The male bird
is about ten inches long, and in extent of wings
fifteen inches; female a trifle smaller. Weight
averages between six and eight ounces.

"Bob White" varies much in his shading
and depth of color in the different parts of his
range. In general the northern Quail is larger,
stronger of flight and rather more brilliantly
colored than the bird of the south and south-
west; the Bob White of the last named section
is especially pale in coloring. But even in the

64 FEATHERED GAME

same covey are found birds differing widely in
degree of coloring.

"Bob White" starts up in the morning,
shakes out his feathers, and leaving the little
circle which with his mates he has formed for
the night — heads outward, everyone, so that
each member shall have plenty of space for ac-
tion if forced to fly — he trips away across the
dewy fields for his favorite feeding grounds.
Here he arrives about the time the sun has
warmed the air and the world has fairly thrown
off its slumber. Across the sunny meadows he
takes his way, pausing to pick a berry here,
and gathering in now a cricket, now a grass-
hopper, and putting away a good breakfast
with a hearty relish. The ripening wheat, the
buckwheat fields, or the corn-patch, if it is in
a quiet place, is likely to receive a visit from
him. In fact, almost any spot, whether brush
or open, is apt to hold him if there is a dainty
there which he appreciates.

The quail man's heart is glad: there is a lull
in the money-getting and he finds again a
chance to tread the fields and brushy corners
so dear from the memories of glorious days of
sport. His hour has come at last. Over the

THE " QUAIL" 65

fence the sportsman goes, his dog all a-wrig-
gle with joy. Toiling to keep up and envying
his comrade that extra pair of legs, the man
ploughs through the briars and pushes his way
through thick-growing alder clumps along the
springy gullies, into the birches — the same
haunts which charm the grouse — and strides
down the fence line, broad-margined with its
tangle of weeds, rosebriars and blackberry
bushes, with scrubby pines and young trees of
various sorts growing along its devious way.
A gravelly path across the fields lies athwart
the pointer's track and as he runs the tell-tale
scent suddenly reaches the quivering high-lifted
nostrils. He plows the sand with all four feet
in the effort to stop, then wheels at right angles
and draws on a few steps to halt with tense
muscles and glaring eyes. He has them ! The
sportsman pauses to admire the scene before
the spell is broken, and his heart throbs high
with pleasure and pride in the performance of
this, his chief est jewel. Then at his close ap-
proach, with the rustle and roar of many striv-
ing pinions the air is suddenly filled with fly-
ing forms — little balls of brown with a haze
at each side where are their buzzing wings.

66 FEATHERED GAME

Each in a different course they bustle away
and in his haste the novice mayhap " shoots into
the bunch," to find to his surprise that there
is a whole lot of sky with no Quail flying in it.
The veteran usually, but not invariably, re-
members to choose a bird and may get one with
each barrel. Because of their close lying the
bulk of the shots are straight away and so are
fairly easy, but the cross shots at short range
— 0, my! Still, all in all, I think quail shoot-
ing is easier than any wood shooting in New
England at grouse or 'cock, partly because
Mr. Quail seldom, if ever, uses that favorite
trick of Bonasa, tangling his enemy's legs
into a knot as he tries to follow the bird's
swift circle around the shooter's head. Sev-
eral times I have seen shooting companions
thus caught with legs askew sit down suddenly
from the recoil of their weapons in an attempt
to stop a curling grouse. Kills are few in
such cases. Then, too, the woodcock's tower-
ing start and erratic course when alarmed is
to most sportsmen a much more difficult propo-
sition than the bee-line directness of Bob White.
As a rule when a covey is flushed they fly
only a few hundred yards. Perhaps next time

THE "QUAIL" 67

they scatter in every direction when started
from the ground and may then be picked up in
detail. In most cases the covey keeps to one
particular neighborhood, rarely going far
away, and may usually be found when wanted.
In the early part of the season they are likely
to be found in the brushy covers, but at the
close are oftener in the open.

While it lasts the Quail's flight is a terrific
burst of speed. It requires more than ordin-
ary shooting ability to make a good average of
birds in proportion to the number of cartridges
used; especially is this so in the thick covert.
He will carry off a good load of shot, too, will
Mr. Quail, for the little fellow has that high
order of courage, the heritage of his family,
which keeps him still doing his best just so long
as he can flutter a feather. In quail shooting
in the open, however, it seems as though a
good "clay-bird" shot should account for a
fair percentage of his cartridges, since the
gamey "bluerock" flies much like the Quail.

Much has been said of the Quail's ability to
"retain his scent." May it not be that the
bird is only trying to conceal itself and by hug-
ging its feathers closely and never stirring

68 FEATHERED GAME

from the spot on which it has alighted thus re-
duces its body scent to a minimum and leaves
no footscent to assist its enemy? The best of
dogs may sometimes walk straight through a
covey thus hidden and unless some frightened
bird stirs or breaks away he has little chance
of discovering their presence. Whether the
bird is voluntarily "witholding its scent" or
is merely making itself as small as possible in
order to avoid detection in this hugging the
feathers down is an open question. There is
no doubt that dogs are sometimes unaccount-
ably at fault in such cases. I have seen some-
thing similar in the woodcock covers, when a
woodcock, killed cleanly in the air and fallen
into a slight hollow in the ground, its wings
folded close to its sides, head and beak under-
neath, has made a good dog some minutes'
work to locate it. But when with the gunbar-
rels the bird was stirred ever so slightly, the
dog hunting fifteen yards away, puzzled and
totally at loss, wheeled to a point on the instant
and came quickly in and retrieved the bird.
Even the ruffed grouse gets credit for the same
thing in less measure, because she is very care-
ful in her manner of approaching and leaving

THE " QUAIL" 69

her nest, nearly always coming up on the wing
and alighting almost in it, and when leaving
making a flight as soon as she is fairly clear of
her eggs. Rarely, indeed, does she walk to or
from her treasures, so that she may leave no
trail for her enemies to follow to her undoing.
Of course in all these cases the bird's scent is
much less because of the thorough airing out
which the feathers get in their hustling flight,
but I much doubt any ability to withold their
scent in either one of them. In the case of the
Quails more often than not it is the fault of
the shooter in his carelessness in marking or
of the dog in his lack of nose than that the
birds have "retained their scent." However,
should this strange disappearance of the birds
occur it is only a matter of waiting until they
have begun to move about, — as they will in a
very short time — in order to get good shooting
at the scattered members of the bevy. Once
the flock has been well broken up the single
birds usually hug the ground very closely
when the dog has found them. I have almost
caught one in my hand thinking it a bird which
I had just seen fall and which lay within six
feet of it.

70 FEATHERED GAME

THE BEETLEHEAD PLOVER. BLACK-
BREASTED PLOVER.

(Squatarola squatarola.)

The Beetlehead! What visions of blue
water, barren sandbars, seaweed-covered
ledges, and lonely, wind-swept, desolate islands
this name brings up to the shore gunner's
mind! What pictures of splendid birds flash-
ing over the water or scaling down in swift
career to the sandy margins where the sea is
ever breaking, and the wary visitors feeding,
ready at a sign of danger to take wing and
away. Cautious and vigilant to the last degree
and very keen of sight, they are the most intelli-
gent of their family and among those least often
captured by the New England gunner in spite
of their comparatively large numbers.

Among the best known of the shorebird fam-
ily is this large and strikingly appareled bird,
called also (for, because of its wide dispersion
this species is distinguished by many titles) the
Black-breasted Plover, Whistling Field Plover,
Ox-Eye, Swiss Plover, Bull Head and Chuckle-
head, these last two from his somewhat heavy

THE BEETLEHEAD PLOVER 71

and stocky head and neck, and not in the slur-
ring manner in which these names are com-
monly used. But whatever the name he is one
that commands the hearty admiration of the
sportsman, and well may the Beetlehead be
appreciated, both in the lonely places where he
dwells and at the table, for he is one of the
finest of our shorebirds in the qualities which
the marsh gunner prizes, as well as a sweet
morsel for the epicure.

They are principally seen on our shores dur-
ing the migrations, coming in large flocks dur-
ing the latter part of April and the first of
May, northward bound to their breeding
grounds, returning in smaller bunches from
August through September and the first half
of October, going as far south for winter quar-
ters as the West Indies and sometimes even to
Brazil. Their migratory flights mainly take
place at night, the birds resting and feeding
during the day.

During the spring flights they are for a short
time abundant on our coasts. Caring little for
the muddy flats and even less for the marsh-
lands, they feed along the rocky shores and
bare sea beaches, dashing in upon each re-

72 FEATHERED GAME

treating wave to seize the choice bits thrown
up and stranded on the edges. They run
nimbly and gracefully about in an eager
scramble for their rations, searching seaweed
and drift stuff for the myriad wrigglers found
therein. Yet, let the gunner peep ever so care-
fully over the edge of the bank where he lies
hidden and each wary feeder becomes at once
a motionless statue. Had he not seen their
animation a moment before he might think he
had come upon a wooden congregation of de-
coys. "While he is still they make no move-
ment, but let him stir, either for nearer ap-
proach or to draw back from view that he may
get a better position, and the instant his head
goes out of sight behind the long salt grass
the flock noiselessly takes wing with easy,
graceful flight, alighting some hundreds of
yards away to feed comfortably until the dan-
gerous admirer, with stealthy caution and much
toilsome trudging through the shifting sand
dunes once more approaches too near for
safety, when the same performance again takes
place. It makes little difference how the ap-
proach is managed, the result is generally the
same; the gunner peers cautiously at the spot

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THE BEETLEHEAD PLOVER 73

where a moment since the flock was busily
feeding, and seeing them not, soon discovers
them two hundred yards away, apparently just
as ready to tease him as before. They seem
less suspicious of a boat, however, and will
sometimes permit a gunner to get within easy
range in this way. The smaller flocks in the
fall will decoy quite readily or come with eager
questionings to the mimicry of their whistling
note.

By the middle of June they are nearly all on
their breeding grounds, mostly in those ice-
bound regions of the north, where the lonely
wastes for a few brief months are warmed by
the sun into a semblance of summer. Here are
the homes of the myriads of birds whose pass-
ing hosts spend a brief season in our land to
feed and rest from their journey ings. Among
these the Beetleheads are numbered, and in
such solitudes their young families are reared
and trained up to the strength needful for their
long flights.

A shallow hole scooped out in the sand and
lined with dry grass and moss constitutes the
home of this, the finest of the plover family;
and the nest, when ready for the hatching, us-

74 FEATHERED GAME

ually contains four drab or clay-colored eggs
with dark brown splashes upon them. The
nesting season begins about the first to the mid-
dle of May, and by August, or even earlier,
straggling birds have begun their wanderings,
moving lazily and comfortably from place to
place along-shore. Often parties of them lin-
ger in our borders until fairly "warned out"
by the frosts of approaching winter.

These are more maritime than are the golden
plovers, which mainly make their migrations
overland. The Beetleheads seem to prefer the
sea-coasts for their travels, it may be for safety,
perhaps also for the certainty of abundant
food. They are sometimes fairly numerous in-
land during the fall months, making "short
cuts," maybe, in order to favor the younger
travellers. Northern and eastern New Eng-
land is not so well acquainted with this bird,
the greater part of the flights, both spring and
fall, passing us by in a direct course over the
water between the southern cape of Nova Sco-
tia and Cape Cod. Comparatively few of the
migrant waders visit the coast line between
these points. The few that do so are mostly
birds which have bred within our borders or

THE BEETLEHEAD PLOVER 75

passersby driven inshore by the southeast
storms so eagerly looked for by the marsh- and
bay-gunners of these waters. Thus, while we
seldom get any shooting at shore-birds here be-
fore the middle of August or the first of Sep-
tember, our brother sportsmen of Massa-
chusetts commonly have good sport on plover
and curlew as early as the middle of July.

The Beetleheads, as are the other "bay
snipe" on Cape Cod, are mostly shot from
blinds and over decoys set out on the sea beaches
— the blind usually a pit in the sand with the
gunner lying quietly hidden until the game has
come in close. Large bags of the various kinds
of plover and curlew are often made in this
fashion, for as the compact flocks wheel over the
"tolers" and turn to leave when they discover
the cheat they give the most favorable oppor-
tunity for the experienced bay-man to rake their
ranks with deadly effect.

They make a pretty picture as the flocks
sweep rapidly past in close order, with clear
and musical call, the sharply contrasted blacks
and whites of their plumage alternately show-
ing and being hidden by the swiftly moving
wings as they career along, now slanting to

76 FEATHERED GAME

the right, now veering to the left, now the jet
black breasts, now the gray backs and the white
spots on the rumps and tail coverts showing
like foamy fleckings from the breakers over
which they skim. To my mind this is the prince
of all the plover tribe — the worthiest member
of a noble family.

Probably the Beetlehead is the fleetest of
wing among the bay birds, the ''golden" being
the only one having the right to challenge his
title.

Many gnnners confuse this bird with the
golden plover, and indeed the two are much
alike, yet in addition to the Beetlehead 's greater
size there is one marked difference on which the
species is founded and which makes the Beetle-
head unmistakable in any plumage — he has a
hind toe, small and rudimentary, 'tis true, but
plainly showing in every one of the species.
The "golden," as is the case of all our other
true plovers, lacks this. For his other mark-
ings, in his full dress uniform — (we all want
our pictures taken in our wedding clothes, and
so, it is likely, does our beautiful visitor) —
above the Beetlehead is colored with a mixture
of black, dusky gray and white, the darker

THE BEETLEHEAD PLOVER 77

shades prevailing in the centres and the white
mostly on the tips and edges of the feathers.
The upper tail coverts white with but little
of the dark shading ; forehead, crown and down
the side of the neck snow white, as are also the
linings of the wings, under tail coverts, tibiae
and vent. The tail is barred with black and
white. Sides of the head as far back as the
eye, side of the neck, breast and remaining un-
der parts, primaries, axillary plumes, bill, legs
and feet are black. Male and female are
marked alike though the lady may have brown-
ish tones in the blacks. Comparatively few
gunners are acquainted with him in this plum-
age, knowing him better in his fall dress of
mottled black and white, when the breast mark-
ing is somewhat dingier and does not, as a
rule, show the solid area of black, nor are any
of the contrasts of color so marked, yet he may
be recognized at once by his large size and the
hind toe, the mark of the species.

The bird at the right in the plate is in the
plumage of the young of the year — the winter
dress of the adult bird also, though the mature
bird generally retains some trace of the black
breast in the dusky markings below. In this

78 FEATHERED GAME

plumage, (the " pale-belly," as the shore gun-
ner then calls the bird in distinction from the
black-breast full dress) there is often a yel-
lowish tinge on the feathers of the back which
makes the resemblance to the golden plover still
greater.

The length of this species varies from eleven
to twelve and one-half inches; the extent of
wings from twenty-two to twenty-four inches.
Weight from seven to nine ounces.

THE AMERICAN GOLDEN PLOVER.

(Charadrius dominicus.)

The Golden Plover is somewhat smaller than
the last species, is three-toed, is of slenderer
figure and has a smaller and slimmer bill.
His coloration is darker, and in the full breed-
ing dress with the jet black breast is even less
often seen in the United States than is his
cousin, the beetlehead. As a rule he prefers
the inland country to the seashore, and is es-
pecially partial to barren and burnt ground.
A piece of newly plowed land offers great at-
tractions to the migrant flocks. In one place
where the writer often shoots, on the borders

THE AMERICAN GOLDEN PLOVER 79

of the marsh are many acres of hay fields. One
season some twenty acres of this was turned
over and the brown mold laid bare to the sun
and rain. During all that fall not a passing
flock of "Goldens" but would stop and make
a call there. More were killed in that one
season in that place than in the five together
preceding it. When a flock arrived they would
quarter the ground, wheeling here and there
in erratic flight, until satisfied that all was safe,
then finding a suitable place would suddenly
alight and scatter at once to feed.

Their beautiful dark eyes are full and soft,
of remarkable size and brilliancy for a shore
bird. The head, like that of the last species, is
large, and the forehead is equally bulging and
prominent, rising at a sharp angle from the bill.
The call is a mellow piping note, flute-like and
clear, and while not so powerful as many an-
other bay bird produces, has great carrying
qualities and is heard much farther than would
be thought. With a little practice the gunner
may easily imitate it — a great assistance to-
ward filling his game bag, for they decoy well
and come readily to a skillful call. Altogether
the Golden Plover is a fine bird from the bay

80 FEATHERED GAME

gunner's view point — easy, graceful and strong
in flight, nimble and swift of foot — indeed, what
plover is not?

They arrive in New England rather later
in the spring than do the beetleheads, and re-
turn to warm latitudes earlier. They nest in
the Arctic regions, as do most of the shore
birds, which gives us very little opportunity for
observing their breeding habits. The winter
months are passed in the Southern States and
beyond to the southward. Many are found at
this season on the grassy plains which make the
cattle ranges of Texas and northern Mexico,
and some even go to the extreme southern part
of South America, so that their range is a wide
one. The family is represented in Europe and
Asia, also, the Old World bird varying but lit-
tle from our own. Only an expert could dis-
tinguish one from the other, and he not always.

Most writers claim that this bird is much
more common in New England than is the bee-
tlehead. While this may be so, my own ex-
perience has been to the contrary, and I think
that most gunners on the coast of Maine will
take my view of it. I think I have seen in
one great flock during the spring flight more

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THE AMERICAN GOLDEN PLOVER 81

beetleheads than I have seen of Goldens in all
my life.

The Golden Plover feeds in the fields and
highland pastures, haunting much the same
ground as the upland plover, living upon slugs,
beetles, earthworms and grasshoppers, nor
passing by the sweet berries of the fields. In the
West they tell us stories of these birds follow-
ing the plow when the farmer turns up the soil
of the prairies, and of their coming so close
that the ploughman knocks them over with his
whip as they curl and wheel about his head.
This sounds like a — well, a "fairy tale," to the
eastern gunner, at any rate most of our sports-
men are satisfied to hunt Golden Plovers with
a hard-hitting, close-shooting shotgun.

During the migration fair shooting is some-
times to be had at Goldens in our island fields,
when the gunner, putting out decoys and be-
ing well hidden, calls the passing flocks. They
rarely refuse to come to these false friends,
not once only but even returning for the sec-
ond discharge, unwilling to desert a comrade
in distress. Of course no such bags are made
here as in their western ranges. If the sports-
man comes suddenly upon a single bird it will

82 FEATHERED GAME

sometimes seem to be confused and may only
run a short distance, when if it thinks itself
unobserved it will crouch in the grass and re-
main motionless until the gunner either has
forced it to fly or has passed on.

The bird in its spring plumage is marked as
follows: forehead and a stripe over the eyes
white; upper parts generally brownish black,
speckled with yellow and white, these lighter
spots mostly on the tips and edges of the feath-
ers. The tail grayish brown with black bars.
Below, the throat and breast a brownish black,
growing lighter toward the lower parts ; axillars
and linings of wings dusky or ashy; feet and
legs black. Such a bird rarely falls to the New
England gunner as this is his summer plumage.
As we see him in the fall the under parts are
ashy gray, faintly and irregularly splashed with
dark brown or black; top of the head yellow
with dusky lines; stripe over the eye grayish;
for the rest much as in the spring plumage.
The females are marked like the males save
that the black breast has taken on a brownish
hue. Have seen a few adult birds wearing
the breeding dress into the fall and winter
months.

THE KILDEER PLOVER 83

The Golden Plover is about ten and one-half
inches long, and in wing spread about twenty-
two inches. Weight from five and one-half to
six ounces. It may be needless to add that the
bird is a delicate morsel for the table.

THE KILDEER PLOVER. "KILDEE."

(Oxyechus vociferus.)

The chief of the small family of "ring
plovers;" the largest and most beautiful of
these birds in our territory. He has named
himself and we have taken him at his word,
"Kildeer! Kildeer!" A noisy, active, restless
little bird, and not very common in New Eng-
land as compared with the numbers found in
the West.

They are not so much given to gathering into
flocks nor are they so partial to the seashore
as are their smaller brethren. The Kildeer is
mostly found in the fields and high grounds,
ploughed lands or marshes rather than the
sea beaches. In the full plumage a beautiful
bird; above, brownish gray, with a greenish,
satiny gloss, and many feathers edged with
golden brown; rump and upper tail coverts of

84 FEATHERED GAME

bright and varying shades of golden yellow or
light chestnut. The forehead with a band of
white running from eye to eye, black-bordered
above and joined by a narrow thread above the
eye with the white patch behind, this gradually
changing into the grayish brown of the hind
head. A black band from the base of the bill,
passing below the eye through the ear coverts
and fading into the brown of the nape. Throat
white, this color carried entirely around the
neck in a narrow collar. Below this two collars
of black; the first completely, the second par-
tially, encircling the body, and between these an
incomplete band of white. Wings the same
shade of brownish gray as on the back, with
a crossbar of white formed by the tips of the
greater coverts. Primaries black, with a con-
siderable area of white on the outer webs of
the inner one. For the rest below, pure white.
Central tail feathers dark greenish brown,
growing blackish toward the ends, tipped with
tawny or white. Side tail feathers lighter, with
several dark barrings, the outer pair nearly
white, less distinctly barred. Bright orange on
eyelids. Bill black; legs pale yellow. Length
from nine to ten and spread of wings about

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SEMIPALMATED PLOVER 85

twenty inches. As a rule the Kildeer is not
very wary.

This species is a dweller in North America
from the Saskatchewan country southward. It
is found in the winter months in the "West In-
dies, Central America and northern South
America. It breeds anywhere throughout this
wide range of territory, usually laying from
two to four eggs, dull drab or cream color, with
brownish blotches upon them.

SEMIPALMATED PLOVER.

(^Egialitis semipalmata.)

Common on almost every sandbar and mud-
bank along our coast are the ' ' ringnecks, "
filling the air with their soft and pleasant pip-
ing. Their notes, at times wild and mournful,
are always in accord with the swash of the
sea. Inhabiting the same ground and often as-
sociating with the smaller sandpipers, where
not much molested they show the same trustful
and confiding disposition as these little neigh-
bors, but where the "summer boarder" harries
them daily they soon become as wild and wary
as any of the shorebirds.

86 FEATHERED GAME

There are several species of this family
found in our territory, but the Semipahnated
Plover is the usual victim in a game bag. The
Belted Piping Plover is less common, and rar-
est of all in New England is Wilson's Plover
which occasionally strays here from his warmer
range. It is barely possible that the Snowy
Plover, (Aegialitis nivosa) a western bird, may
visit us at times.

Along our sea beaches — the outer ones which
are not so much frequented by human kind —
in August and the first half of September their
flocks are happily feeding, running nimbly
about, chasing each receding wave with tire-
less feet, and as rapidly retreating before each
incoming comber. They are apparently a
happy and good-natured little company, never
quarreling nor wrangling among themselves,
and, unfortunately for their own safety, are
only too willing to investigate if they hear a
neighbor's call. The gunner need not be very
carefully hidden if he can imitate their note, as
small bunches are almost certain to come in and
give him a chance as they are skimming past.
However, few sportsmen disturb their peace,

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SEMIPALMATED PLOVER 87

and it is mainly the small boy, the natural en-
emy of all living creatures, who decimates their
ranks.

The two common species are often found in
one flock, but with us and in most localities the
most numerous race is the Semipalmated,
marked as follows: bill short and stout, black
with orange-yellow base; forehead prominent,
rising sharply from the bill as in others of the
tribe; above, a dark brownish gray, matching
well "the ribbed sea sand," their home. It
is astonishing how well this protective color-
ing hides them when by accident they are still
for a moment. Below pure white. Throat
white, the lower part of this patch passing com-
pletely around the neck in a narrow ring.
Below this a wide black collar entirely
around the neck. A patch of black at the
base of the bill, running back below the eye
and bordering the white forehead, which is
again sharply defined by the black of the crown.
A ring of bright orange about* the eye. Prima-
ries blackish. Tail same color as the back,
but growing darker toward the ends of the
feathers ; tips white, as are also the outer pairs

88 FEATHERED GAME

of feathers. Legs flesh color, feet considerably
webbed between the middle and outer toes.
Length from seven to seven and one-half in-
ches; extent of wings about fifteen inches.

THE PALE RINGNECK, OR PIPING
PLOVER.

(iEgialitis meloda.)

Though much less common in the east than
the last, this species is fairly abundant all
alongshore, associating with the semipalmated
plover and in mode of life differing in no wise
from him. The "whistle" differs from that
of the last species. As the name indicates he
is lighter in coloring, of less decided tones,
and may be picked out at once in a flock of
the more common species of ringnecks among
which he appears to be snow white. The bird
is pale brownish ash above; below, like all the
family, pure white, as is also the forehead,
side of the head, throat, and a collar from the
throat encircling the neck. Below this collar
is a black band of less and variable extent,
sometimes completely encircling the neck but
oftener the circle is broken in front. The tail

BELTED PIPING PLOVER 89

coverts are white. Tail dusky in the centre,
outer pairs of feathers growing white. Wing
quills dusky with whitish patches. Eyelids or-
ange. Bill as in the last species but not so
brightly colored. This species is also webbed
between the middle and outer toes, but not to
so great an extent as in the preceding. The
Pale Ringneck is a trifle smaller than the Semi-
palmated Plover. Both birds inhabit the in-
land country as well as the coast, but in New
England are rarely found away from the sea-
shore.

The bird at the right in the plate represents
this species.

THE BELTED PIPING PLOVER.

(.ffigialitis meloda circumcincta.)

This bird is so similar in his markings to the
Pale Ringneck that one must be a very close
student to detect the difference. He may per-
haps be a little grayer in his tones. He is not
so often taken on New England shores, his range
lying more to the westward.

The principal characteristic of this variety,
which is of somewhat doubtful value in or-

90 FEATHERED GAME

nithology, lies in the fact that the ring of black
very nearly meets on the forebreast or may en-
tirely encircle the neck ; its ring is supposed to
be larger and the color darker than in the or-
dinary Piping Plover. There is so much varia-
tion in the amount of collar worn by them that
it is often very hard to say to which form a
specimen belongs.

WILSON'S PLOVER.

(Octhodromus wilsonius.)

This is a rare straggler from the south, sel-
dom taken north of Long Island, but in its
southern wanderings often going to Brazil,
Peru, and even farther on. He can scarcely
be mistaken for any other member of the fam-
ily, for the widely different shape and color
of his bill as well as its larger size will place
him at once. He also lacks the orange ring
around the eye.

The bird breeds throughout its range,
scarcely making a nest, but laying its three or
four eggs in a hollow in the warm, dry sand
above the reach of the tide. This plover is
mainly a dweller on the sea coast.

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AMERICAN OYSTER CATCHER 91

Its markings and peculiarities: bill black,
long for this family, thick and large. Fore-
head white, this color carried back over the
eyes to the nape. Top of the head brownish
gray, blackening at the forehead; the nape
same color as the top of the head. Blackish
stripe from the base of the bill to the eye but
not beyond. Throat and entire under parts ex-
cept the half collar of black are pure white, the
white of the throat completely encircling the
neck. Primaries blackish, lighter at the bases,
inner ones with outer edges of white. Central
tail feathers dusky, darkening toward the ends
and white-tipped. Outer pair or so white.

Female much like the male except that the
black markings have become a rusty brown in
her dress.

AMERICAN OYSTER CATCHER.

(Haematopus palliatus.)

The American Oyster Catcher is but seldom
seen on the coast of northern New England,
probably being scarcer on these ranges than
in any other part of his habitat. It does not
gather into large flocks nor does it to any ex-

92 FEATHERED GAME

tent frequent the inland country, scarcely ever
going farther from the sea than does the tide
water in the rivers.

All along the eastern shores of the two
Americas this bird is found, northward to Lab-
rador or farther in the summer months, and
wintering from the Middle Atlantic States to
and beyond the tropics, far down the South
American coast. It is also found on the Pacific
side of the continents, but the more common
species there is the Black Oyster Catcher.

The Oyster Catcher's bill is remarkably stout
and well fitted for its purpose, that is, for driv-
ing into "sea urchins," knocking "wrinkles"
off the rocks and burrowing into the sand for
razor fish and small crabs, for he eats any of
the marine shellfish which he can capture.

The bird is large and showy, and as it be-
hooves him for his safety's sake, wary in pro-
portion as he looms above his shore-bird neigh-
bors. Scarcely to be approached at any
season, few are captured and they are fairly
earned by good and careful work. Decoys and
enticing whistlings avail naught, for the bird
is either unsocial or aristocratic and well sat-
isfied with his own society.

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AMERICAN OYSTER CATCHER 93

The coloring of this species is arranged in
solid masses and is sharply contrasted. The
bill is long and heavy, chisel pointed, deepest at
a point one-third of its length from the head,
and in color bright red, growing orange yellow
at the tip. Head, neck and fore breast black.
Back and wings dusky brown. The rump
mainly like the back, but on the edges of the
tail coverts growing white, this color also show-
ing on the bases of the tail feathers, and these
going through the shades of brown and dusky
to jet black at the tips. Wings like the back
in color, with a crossbar of white formed by the
ends of the greater coverts and some of the
secondaries. Linings of the wings and entire
under parts white. Eyes red with a circle of
orange about them. Feet and legs stout, of a
pale pinkish color. The length of this species
varies from seventeen to twenty inches, and its
spread of wings between thirty-three and thir-
ty-five inches.

There are several other species of oyster
catchers. Nearly every sea coast in the world
affords them sustenance and is inhabited by
some member of the family.

94 FEATHERED GAME

THE TURNSTONE. "CALICO BACK."
CHICKEN PLOVER. ROCK PLOVER.

(Arenaria morinella.)

Where the sea beaches are not too thickly
populated with human visitors the Turnstones
are quite common during the summer and early
fall, from the middle of July to the middle of
September. These "Chicken Plovers," as the
shore-dweller has named them, are most inter-
esting little birds, scurrying along the beach,
putting their stout little beaks under the peb-
bles to turn them over so as to expose to view
the myriad "wrigglers" dwelling beneath
them; it is even said that they will drive their
beaks through the armor of the less thoroughly
protected shellfish, such as the "sea urchins,"
and the like. They handle quite a pebble when
they set to work upon it, putting the bill be-
neath and turning it with a sudden jerk of their
stout little necks, or when this will not do it,
by settling back upon their legs and suddenly
straightening them at same time with the ef-
fort of the head and neck, or even pushing
against it, man-fashion, with their breasts. In

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THE TURNSTONE 95

the air the Turnstones are very pretty birds,
bearing a strong resemblance to the beetle-
head when on the wing, except when they alter-
nate scaling and swift wing beats as is their
habit. When flying they have a curious chat-
tering conversational note, almost like that
of the English sparrow. They are said to swim
well and to make nothing of alighting upon
the water from their flights. Have never seen
them do so but do not doubt their seamanship.
They do not gather into large flocks save dur-
ing their migrations, at ordinary times being
found in bunches ranging in number from two
or three to a dozen birds.

The Turnstone is a dweller in almost every
corner of the world. He is found along both
coasts of our continent, well up into the north
in summer, — on the Pacific coast to Alaska, on
the Atlantic shores certainly to Labrador and
probably well beyond, all along the Arctic coast.
In the winter months they leave us for the
milder breezes and bluer waters of the Mexican
Gulf, and many go far down both coasts of
South America.

Though far more common on the ocean
shores they are at times taken on the Great

96 FEATHERED GAME

Lakes and other large inland waters. On the
coast line they rarely penetrate into the tide
water and aestuaries, choosing rather the
ledges rising from the deep water and the
rocky shores of remote and seldom-visited
islands well out from the mainland, where all
undisturbed they may live their happy and in-
nocent lives. As for their coloring we might
almost say that no two are marked alike, the
depth of color and its arrangement being sub-
ject to wide variation in different specimens.
In general their upper parts are irregularly
splashed with black and white and dark brown,
with some patches of light red or chestnut.
Below, mostly white, but black on lower throat
and breast. Crown streaked with black and
white. Forehead, cheeks, side of head, throat
and nape white. On the side of the neck black
and white in irregular patches. Back, rump
and upper tail coverts white, with a dark patch
through central line of rump and tail coverts.
Tail white with dusky patch near tips of the
feathers, these finally tipped with white. Scap-
ulars, secondaries and wing coverts mottled
with black and chestnut. Some of the greater
coverts white, often making a crossbar of this

THE AVOCET 97

color in the wing. Under wing coverts white.
Eyes and bill black; feet pale orange.

The female is not so brightly colored, lacking
much of the light red, which in her dress is
replaced with dark brown. The fall bird of
either sex is not so brilliantly attired as is the
spring migrant, but even then is a beautiful
piece of coloring. The length of this species
is between eight and nine inches ; the extent of
wing varies from sixteen to eighteen inches.

Besides the present species the Pacific coast
boasts another — the Black-headed Turnstone,
closely akin to our bird. The two are chums
where their ranges come together, from South-
ern California northward.

THE AVOCET.

(Recurvirostra americana.)

This striking and graceful bird, like many of
his family, is a lover of the Great West and
so is not often taken in New England. It is
far less common on the eastern half of our
continent than beyond the Rockies and in the
northeast is an exceptionally rare visitor.

In their chosen range they favor the salt

98 FEATHERED GAME

pools and the muddy ponds, feeding along the
edges and even wading in so deep as to im-
merse the whole head and neck in the water as
they probe into the muddy bottom with their
bills.

In many respects this bird is one of the most
remarkable of the waders^ with its striking
markings of plumage, long, slender and up-
turned bill, long legs and webbed feet, and be-
ing also heavily and closely feathered under-
neath, there is no difficulty in its swimming or
wading. Indeed, it makes nothing of alighting
in deep water from its flights when it so wishes,
and it can swim as well as a duck. It is cer-
tainly well fitted for any exigency of life. We
are told that it is very noisy and less wary in
habit than is conducive to its safety.

The Avocet is extremely long-legged, prob-
ably proportionately more so than any other
wader unless it be the "stilt." Its plumage is
mainly white, changing to a rusty or cinnamon
brown on the head and neck, paling at the base
of the bill, darkest on the head and fading grad-
ually into the white of the breast and body.
The interscapulars and a part of the scapulars
are black. Wings for the most part black, but

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THE STILT 99

some of the secondaries and the linings of the
wings are white. The tail short and squarely
cut, pearl gray or light ashy. Iris bright red.
Bill long, slender and generally up-curved, is
black in color. Its long legs are a dull, pale
blue, with lighter webs, these sometimes flesh-
colored. Length from sixteen to twenty in-
ches; wing spread varying from thirty-two to
thirty-six inches.

The wings and tail are often very short for
this family, thus their measurements may vary
widely in different specimens, but there is no
chance for confusing the Avocet with any other
of our birds, for his cinnamon head, short and
square-cut tail, to say nothing of the slender,
long and up-curved bill and the webbing of the
feet will identify him at once.

The range of this species is from the Sas-
katchewan southward through the United States
to Central America and the West Indies.

THE STILT.

(Himantopus mexicanus.)

Having much the same range as the avocet,
though perhaps more southerly in its habitat,

100 FEATHERED GAME

and extremely rare in New England, is another
curious bird, the Stilt, also called Longshanks,
and the Lawyer.

The Stilt is from fourteen to fifteen inches
long and from twenty-four to twenty-eight
inches across his wings ; these are proportion-
ately considerably longer than the avocet's,
when folded, extending quite a little beyond the
tail. Above, mainly black if the bird is at rest,
as the wings are closed over the white upper
parts and the tail. The black is also carried
over the back of the neck and the top of the
head, around the eye, leaving the forehead and a
patch on the eyelids and behind the eye white,
as are also the sides of the neck, throat, head
below the eyes and the entire under parts.
The rump and tail coverts are white; the tail
grayish white. The bill is black, very slender,
usually straight, though sometimes a trifle bent
upward from the centre. Legs and eyes car-
mine.

Its range is virtually the same as the avocet's,
going farther south in winter, to Peru and Bra-
zil as well as the West Indies, and in its north-
erly nights rarely going beyond the United
States.

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THE RED PHALAROPE 101

THE RED PHALAROPE.

(Crymophilus fulicarius.)

The Red Plialarope is the ''odd one" of his
family (any one of which is odd enough),
heavier in his build, having a shorter and a
thicker bill and a longer tail than the other two.
About the base of the bill and on the forehead is
a blackish mask. A patch of white running
back from this through the eyes and nearly
meeting its fellow on the nape. Back of head,
hind neck and down the back tawny yellow and
blackish, the light color on the tips and edges
of the feathers. Rump whitish. Tail long and
rounding, dark brownish ash. The wing cov-
erts dark slatey gray, the tips of the greater
coverts making a crossbar of white. Primaries
dusky, with white shafts. Below, a rich pur-
plish red, this color also on the sides of the neck
and upper tail coverts, deepest on the breast
and paling toward the edges of the area thus
marked. The female, as is the peculiarity of
this family, is much brighter in her hues than
is her mate. Bill dull yellow, growing dusky at
the tip. Feet and legs yellow; toes lobed and

102 FEATHERED GAME

webbed as in the Red-necked Phalarope, but not
to so great an extent. The length of this species
is usually about seven and one-half inches ; the
extent about fourteen.

The fall dress is widely different with no sign
of red below or the tawny on the edges of the
feathers of the back and wings. Most of head
and entire under parts are white, with circum-
ocular patch and spot on the nape of dusky.
Sides ashy gray; above everywhere ashy, the
wings considerably darker, and with decided
crossbar of white. Bill almost all black. This
is the plumage of most of the specimens taken
in New England.

The present species and the Northern Phala-
rope are found more commonly in New Eng-
land, the former the less common, and both pre-
ferring the coast line for their wanderings.

THE NORTHERN PHALAROPE.

(Phalaropus lobatus.)

Next in order and smallest in size is the
Northern, or Red-necked Phalarope, the most
common of this family along our coast. Con-
siderably less brilliant in plumage than is either

THE NORTHERN PHALAROPE 103

of his brethren, this little bird is found pretty
much all through the Northern Hemisphere,
spending the summer months far away within
the Arctic circle, and in winter migrating even
to the tropics. A great traveler for such a
small one. He is likely to be found in any part
of our continent but favors the sea coast.
Flocks of them ("Sea Geese," the sailors call
them) are often found resting quietly on the
water miles from land and feeding on the insects
in the drift stuff.

I remember how surprised I once was at see-
ing what seemed to be three sandpipers paddling
about in the water alongside a bridge over a
tide water bay. A large amount of the sub-
urban travel into Portland, Me., was over this
bridge and there was a continual rumble of
electrics, heavy teams and lighter vehicles, with
plenty of foot passengers also. I stopped to in-
vestigate, and as the tide was high and the birds
not more than fifteen feet away it was easy to
see that the little fellows were Northern Phala-
ropes. I watched them for some time as they
swam at ease, turning and darting as sailor-like
as any of the waterfowl could have done, and
only paddling away finally when a small boy,

104 FEATHERED GAME

unable longer to repress nature, ''shied a rock"
at them. Such fearlessness, or heedlessness, or
innocence, whichever it was, I have never seen
in a wild bird.

In the breeding dress this bird is dark slatey
gray above, darkest on the head; on the back
having numerous mottlings of brownish yellow,
many of the feathers finely edged with white.
The dark color on the head runs back from the
bill below the eye, leaving a white area below
margined about by this color and the red-brown
patch on the neck, which extends from the nape
in a narrow belt across the upper breast,
nearly encircling the throat. All other under
parts white. The upper tail coverts like the
back though with broader white margins to the
feathers. The wings, when closed extending
beyond the tail, are dusky, the tips of the
greater coverts making a broad white bar across
them. Quills with shafts whitish, darkening
toward the tips. Bill small and slender, pro-
portionately shorter than in Wilson's and
black in color, as are likewise the feet and legs.
The toes have a marginal membrane, scalloped
on the edges, making lobes on each joint. The
membrane also extends between the toes out to

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WILSON'S PHALAROPE 105

the second joint, thus making a very good pro-
pelling agent of the foot.

The bird in the fall is often a plain gray and
white little fellow which at first glance will pass
for a "sandpeep," but its slender bill and pe-
culiarly formed feet will mark it at once. Like
the others this species is heavily feathered be-
low to resist the water.

The Northern Phalarope is about seven
inches long, with a sail-spread of about thirteen
inches.

WILSON'S PHALAROPE.

(Steganopus tricolor.)

This is the largest and perhaps the handsom-
est of the family. A striking bird which ranks
high in point of beauty of plumage among the
waders.

Wilson's Phalarope is by no means common
in New England, nor for that matter anywhere
east of the Mississippi valley, though abund-
ant from that region westward. Its summer
range takes it north to the region of the Sas-
katchewan, and in the winter it goes down the
coasts of South America even to Patagonia.
They breed at any point in their range, pre-

106 FEATHERED GAME

ferably in the northern marshes, laying three
or four eggs, drab colored with brownish spots.
If these birds were "humans" Mrs. Phalarope
would probably be ' ' strong-minded ' ' and inarch
in the front rank of the army of "new women,"
"going gadding," and lecturing against "that
tyrant, Man ! " As it is, being only a bird, she
is content to make Mr. Phalarope do all the
duty in hatching the eggs and rearing the
youngsters, while the lady of the family wears
the good clothes, puts on the style and does the
ornamental for the pair. She even does the
courting in the spring, thus again reversing the
general order of things in bird life. She is
larger as well as more gaudy in her dress than
is her poor, down-trodden mate. This species is
distinctively American, as might be guessed
from the independence of the lady bird in her
domestic affairs.

In its breeding dress the female Wilson 's Pha-
larope is marked thus : bill quite long and very
slender, tapering nearly to a needle point. The
nostril is almost lost in the feathers at the base
of the bill. Forehead and crown a beautiful
bluish ash, the same color running down to the
nape, there whitening and continuing to the

WILSON'S PHALAROPE 107

back in a narrow stripe, losing itself in the ashy
gray of the back. A strip of black from the
base of the bill passing below and behind the
eye and down the side of the neck where it
changes into purplish chestnut behind and si-
enna brown in front, this gradually fading into
the white of the throat and under parts. Above,
ashy gray, mottled and necked with deep red-
brown. Rump and upper tail coverts nearly
white. Wings folding quite a little beyond the
tail, brownish gray, with fine white tips to the
coverts. Primaries dusky, the shafts white,
darkening at the ends. Tail grayish brown
with tiny edging of white. Entire under parts
white, the feathers thick and close like those of
a water fowl. The legs rather long and flat-
tened laterally as though ("I axes the lady's
parding" but she will wear 'em) her trousers
had just been creased ; the feet black, with long,
slender toes having a marginal webbing. Iris
brown. Length from eight and one-half to nine
inches; extent about fifteen inches.

The male is smaller, and much duller in mark-
ings and color. The brightness of his lady's
garb is very faintly shown in his clothes. A
plain, sad-colored, gray and white, hen-pecked

108 FEATHERED GAME

husband is he, but unmistakable among his
shorebird neighbors from the oddities of his
bill and feet.

AMERICAN WOODCOCK.

(Philohela minor.)

The Woodcock arrives in New England from
his winter quarters much earlier than is com-
monly supposed. The writer has seen him in
the vicinity of Portland, Me., as early as Feb-
ruary 10th, though ordinarily he does not reach
this latitude before the last of March, the
weather, of course, having much to do with his
coming. Things start up early in the sheltered
openings of the forest and on the sunny hill-
sides. Here the woodranger may be agreeably
surprised some fine spring morning at meet-
ing Mr. Woodcock near some big ant hill which
is undergoing repairs at the hands of its ten-
ants and being made ready for the year's work.
This will supply his wants until the alder cov-
ers are ready for him.

In the latter half of April if the season be
warm and forward, the Woodcock builds its
nest in a secluded nook — a slight affair of dead

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 109

leaves and soft grasses woven together in a
shallow depression, — at the foot of a dead stub,
it may be, — and lays its complement of four or
five dull clay-colored eggs, thickly speckled with
brown spots. It is said, and probably truly,
that the cock bird assists in the incubation and
in the care and up-bringing of the young. The
Woodcock has a healthy appetite and is a great
feeder, so that no short watch off the nest
would keep the female plump and round as is
her wont.

Should spring rains or cold storms play havoc
with nests and eggs, with renewed courage they
try again, for this tenacity of purpose is neces-
sary for the continuance of the species, and the
birds, realizing the exacting demands of the
sportsmen of the country, are hard pushed to
meet their requirements. It may be that in
their southern breeding grounds two families
are sometimes raised in a season, but I much
doubt that such is the case at all in New Eng-
land. W^ould that it were !

How many of our sportsmen have ever
seen the Woodcock at his spring love-making?
It is certainly a curious performance and well
worth a trip into the covers to see. With the

110 FEATHERED GAME

corning of darkness he begins his little play;
first, as one observer represents it, a gutteral
' ' spneak ! spneak ! ' ' several times repeated and
the sound not unlike the note of a nighthawk;
with drooping wings and spreading tail he struts
like a turkey cock, and finally leaping into the
air on whistling wings he circles in ever-widen-
ing, higher-mounting spirals to perhaps a height
of fifty yards or more, and after flying about
high up in the gloom he pitches down in slanting,
darting flight, the music still sounding, to the
side of the mate he has left in the brush.
Again and again he repeats this until he tires
of his amusement or her ladyship commands his
attendance.

Those of the young which I have had the op-
portunity of examining closely were killed by a
pointer puppy which had joined me for a Sun-
day stroll. These were of a light brownish
yellow color, with several dusky or dark brown
stripes — one from the bill to the eye; one on
top of the head down over the hind neck; a
spot behind the eye and another below it; the
back mottled with black and grayish buff; a
dark stripe on the rump. At this age when
scurrying over the leaves and through the grass

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 111

in search of safe hiding places they looked not
unlike "chipmunks," as we call our ground
squirrels. If disturbed with her brood the
mother bird has been known to take up a little
one, holding it closely pressed between her legs
and body, and fly away to safer quarters, re-
turning and making separate trips until in this
manner the whole brood has been placed in a
less dangerous neighborhood.

This gentleman is not a hardy bird but a lover
of ease, comfort and plenty. So he chooses his
homes mainly in mild climates, and while in our
Middle States he is to some extent resident,
with us here in the north he is only a visitor
during our warmer seasons, our New England
winters leaving him small chance for a living.
They regularly breed from the central United
States (and rarely even further south — I be-
lieve there are records of this occurrence in the
State of Florida) almost if not quite to the Arc-
tic Circle. In their fall flights they go even to
South America, though it is doubtful if many
venture so far. Their migratory flights take
place at night, so that a cover which to-day is
barren and profitless, to-morrow may be full of
scurrying brown birds busily engaged in boring

112 FEATHERED GAME

and honey-combing the soft mold in an eager
pursuit of breakfast after their journey ings.
In fact, these birds are decidedly nocturnal in
their habits. The main business of their lives
is transacted by the light of the moon, and dur-
ing the day (when out of season) they take
their rest from their midnight wanderings,
basking in the sun in the openings among the
birches of the side-hills, "lazying around" in
the brushy ledges until their healthy appetites
again demand attention. About sundown they
brighten up and begin their hunt for food, fly-
ing out into the open glades to push their long
noses into the moist soil of the brook banks. In
Eussia the sportsman takes advantage of this
habit and about sunset places himself in the
edge of the woods bordering some likely feed-
ing ground, and facing the western light, shoots
them as they fly out to feed. This is called
' ' stand shooting, ' ' a method, I think, almost un-
tried in America. My nearest approach to it
happened one evening when with dog and gun
I started for a nearby cover to see what was the
prospect for sport with grouse in the morning.
It was early in November, when after a long
drought a fierce rainstorm had raged for sev-

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AMERICAN WOODCOCK 113

eral days, and as the breeze out of the north-
west drove the broken rearguard of the storm
seaward I came into the woods. The sun was
setting and in the western sky the promise of
better weather was heralded in the red and gold
glowing on the cloud rims. As the daylight
faded and the enclosing walls of fir took on an
added gloom, I saw an occasional Woodcock
drop into an alder swamp which skirted the
edge of the woods. At times a pair, but oft-
ener a lone straggler dashed silently across the
sky from the wooded hills, and darted down to
feed in the thicket along the brook, and for a
short time there was good fun in the edges of
the cover, taking them as they came in or letting
my dog flush them and doing my best to "snap"
them as they came up sharply outlined against
the sky. It was uncertain shooting and hard
to tell when the barrels were properly pointed.
In half an hour I could not see to shoot, but
went home content — two partridges and five
'cocks. I have tramped all day many a time
for less, but I dare not say how many birds
were missed in that short time. There was
evidently a flight on, and I promised myself
great fun on the morrow, but again, as all too

114 FEATHERED GAME

often happens in things of sport, the pleasures
of anticipation were greater than those of real-
ization, for when the morrow came I walked all
day and although there were evidences aplenty
of the presence of Woodcock, I found but one
bird and got but one shot which was beauti-
fully missed. (0, yes, I miss one now and
then!)

But I must also mention a newer and more
original method as developed by a friend — a
practice not much in vogue as yet, but perhaps
fraught with great possibilities. This gunner
was on a ledge among our outer islands shoot-
ing "coots" late in October, when he saw a
strange bird coming to his decoys. After some
staring at the newcomer he awoke to the situa-
tion in time to send a charge of number two
shot after him and succeeded in killing a fine
Woodcock. I mention this as the only instance
which I have known of a Woodcock being killed
over decoys.

In his moonlight travels the Woodcock is apt
to visit the cornfields or the orchards, even com-
ing into the farmer's dooryard. When cross-
ing his lawn after dark the granger may chance
to hear the rolling whistle and mayhap dodges

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 115

the flying form seen dimly as it dashes through
the bending apple boughs into the darkness
away. The bird may have been pulling angle-
worms under the apple trees, for he is as fond
of this kind of bait as is the Sunday trout-
fisher. Mr. Longbill brings up in strange
places when on his nightly rambles, even visit-
ing the city gardens alongside some main
thoroughfare of the town. He may be said to
have some liking for civilization. Apparently
he is more fond of a country partially under
cultivation than of the solitary wastes yet un-
reclaimed. The Woodcock is rarely seen west
of the Mississippi except in a very few favored
sections.

What becomes of these birds during the hot
days of July and August is an open question
with many sportsmen. This is the moulting
season, when it is probable that they leave the
lowland bogs for the cool air of the hills and
the never-failing springs which the "dog
days' " heat cannot dry up. If so they show
their usual good sense. Some sportsmen — and
these mainly persons of veracity, that is, as
gunners and fishermen average (for when the
Wise Man says, "All men are liars," it must

116 FEATHERED GAME

be remembered that sportsmen are only hu-
man)— some sportsmen tell us that they have
often shot woodcocks in the mountain bogs at
this season, when no birds could be found in
their usual haunts in the lowlands. Game laws
were then almost unheard of or at best only
honored in the breach by the larger body of the
shooting population, and men's consciences per-
mitted them to kill woodcocks in July and Au-
gust ! The birds wander back into their former
homes generally in time to assist in the proper
celebration of the opening day of the season,
though sometimes waiting for the first "cold
snap" to stir them out.

The more I hunt them the more firmly I am
convinced that our long-billed friends are
"mighty onsartin." They may be found at
any time in the most unlikely and unheard-of
place. I frequently find them on the top of a
barren ledge whose only covering is low juni-
per bushes. I often cross this ridge in my par-
tridge shooting (it lies between two of my fav-
orite grouse patches), and seldom fails to dis-
turb at least one or two 'cocks here each time.
Probably they are only digesting their meals.

But who is this gray-bearded, wild-looking

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 117

man who comes striding through the tangle of
alders and brush? Why that baleful light in
his eye? The clouds of shifting, dancing "no-
see-ums" flicker before his face — a colony of
the little pests has gathered on his exposed
neck, — the great grandfather of all the mos-
quitoes is at work sinking a well on the end of
his nose, and a swarm of smaller pirates has
settled on each brown hand, but all unmindful
of these he strides on, with tense and mighty
grip upon the barrels of his gun, for hushed is
the tinkle of his pointer's bell, and dimly show-
ing among the alder stems he sees his dog, one
foot raised, in statuesque pose, rigid and glar-
ing into a small boggy opening just ahead. An-
other step the gunner takes when up with
merry whistling goes the plump brown bird
into the sunlight. The gun flies to the sports-
man's shoulder; a sharp report breaks the Sab-
bath-like stillness of the woods and through the
thin mist of the nitro he sees the lifeless body
falling to the ground. The small brown gnome
of the woodland has finished his course. Now
we know what all this means. This is the ever-
glorious fifteenth of September, — "Wood-
cocks are ripe," and for two months the man

118 FEATHERED GAME

has had this particular bird in his mind, watch-
ing it almost from the egg, protecting it from
the "sooner" gunner, and looking forward to
this blissful moment "even as you and I" have
done each year, my brother of the "scatter
gun. ' '

Steady and swift as it is, his flight lacks the
dash and headlong rush of the ruffed grouse
when he bursts through all leafy obstructions
to his course, nor is it commonly so long ex-
tended when the bird is flushed unless it has
been much harassed. Usually he flutters
through the interlacing boughs, rises just above
the tops, dashes a few yards away and drops
into the brush again. His flight seldom carries
him out of the cover if it pleases him and con-
tains plenty of food.

The Woodcock commonly lies close and fur-
nishes great sport to the gunner who has a well-
trained dog. For this game a dog needs a more
than average good nose, therefore the puppy
that promises well on Woodcock is apt to stand
high in his master's estimation, ranking even
before that other treasure, his twenty-six-inch-
barreled "sprinkle gun," for replacing wood

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 119

and iron is but a question of dollars and cents,
but the dog — ah! That's another matter!

It is a pretty sight to see Mr. Woodcock strut
along ahead of your dog, looking for all the
world like a small boy stepping proudly off
with his hands in the pockets of his first trou-
sers. Suddenly he crouches on the ground — a
leap and he has cleared the alder tops, hover-
ing an instant to get his bearings or make sure
he is clear of the brush, then away ! He makes
a pretty picture as he buzzes over the tops of
the low growth, his head half turned, with
watchful eye upon his enemy, and the merry
whistle of his pinions growing fainter as he
goes, but it is a more pleasing sight to most of
us to see him shut his wings and come turning
over and over to the ground after the little
short-barreled gun has been well handled.
Still, let that second's hesitating hovering pass
unimproved and the chances are that he will
escape.

The Woodcock loves the thickest, densest
cover of the woods, where there may be no
chance to raise the gun to the shoulder, the
tangle of crossing branches catching the bar-

120 FEATHERED GAME

rels as they come up and effectually blocking
any further proceedings until too late. Often
the birds are trotting comfortably about in a
growth of alders where a dog can scarcely
penetrate, much less a sportsman do good work.
In such places, before the frosts have taken the
summer's heat from the still air of the woods,
woodcocking is likely to be very warm business,
but when the colder weather has driven them
from their summer homes in the bogs of Labra-
dor and the bracing northwest winds come down
with their promise of more cold to follow, there
are few shooting trips pleasanter than a day in
the woodcock covers. Many a gray-headed
veteran follows the sport as eagerly now as he
did thirty, aye, forty years agone, when he made
his first essay. I call to mind one poor fellow
who went out for just one more try at the birds
— he was seventy-one — and his summons came
to him alone in the woods where next day they
found him peacefully asleep. He had had good
luck, his game-bag was full of woodcocks, and
his face was as happy as a child's.

Probably woodcock shooting is the most popu-
lar sport with the gun which is followed in New
England, yet why it should rank before grouse-

w>

.5 o

2-§

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 121

shooting is to me a puzzler, unless it is because
a woodcock permits a dog to take more liber-
ties. "Make a sport easy and you have made
it popular ! ' ' Shall we give the first honors of
the forest to the Woodcock solely because he al-
lows his destroyer to tread upon his tail feath-
ers before flying from danger? That seems to
be his chief claim to the distinction, for he is
admittedly inferior to the ruffed grouse in
brains, speed and power of flight, and in lead-
carrying grit, to say nothing of his smaller size.
To my mind there is no bird in America to com-
pare in game qualities with our ruffed grouse.
But perhaps I am not an unprejudiced witness
in this case. I know that it will take a long
course of treatment to cure me of the "par-
tridge habit," and once cured (if such a thing
be possible) there will always be the danger of
relapse. Bight well I know which would re-
ceive my attention if woodcock and grouse were
to rise together before my dog. Many a time
the thunder of the ruffed grouse's flight has
called me away from the woodcocks up into the
birches on the side hill, leaving a fair chance
of shooting "timberdoodles" for the much
smaller prospect of capturing Br'er Grouse,

122 FEATHERED GAME

and I have known many a woodcock enthusiast
to follow me in such case, despite the fact that
my withdrawal left him undisputed possession
of the cover. I am quite willing to give the
'cock the second place, subject, of course, to
the "quail man's" protest, though for myself
I think woodcocking requires more skill on the
shooter's part than does the shooting of quail,
due to the Woodcock's towering and twisting
flight, and the generally thicker cover where
Mr. Longbill is found. This does not apply to
fire-slaughter as practiced in the south.

The American Woodcock is a trifle smaller
than his European relative and of much darker
coloration. To soothe our national vanity I
will add that he is much smarter and more re-
sourceful than the Old World product. The
habits of the two are very similar. In color our
bird is a warm reddish brown, mottled on the
back and wings with jet black. Many feathers,
mostly on the shoulders, of a pale blue-gray
color. Most of the feathers of the back and
wings are tipped with deep tawny yellow. On
the breast a ruddier tinge which deepens on the
flanks to a beautiful reddish- or golden-brown.
The male bird is from ten to eleven inches long,

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 123

between sixteen and eighteen inches in extent,
and weighs from six to eight ounces. The fe-
male is a trifle larger and the average weight
may be an ounce or so heavier. Have heard
from sportsmen of " Tiniberdoodles " weighing
twelve ounces, but such birds are not common
and I, at least, have never seen one. The larg-
est Woodcock of my own capturing weighed
nine and one-half ounces. When I brought him
down I would have gambled that he weighed
not less than a pound. I have seen one that,
though not in plump order, weighed ten and
one-quarter ounces, was twelve inches in length,
and had a wing-spread of twenty inches. It
was by all odds the largest Woodcock that I
have ever seen and in good condition should
have been a record breaker for weight.

Mr. Timberdoodle is an odd-looking bird.
His striking personality will command the at-
tention of anyone who may meet him. A plump
and chunky body is he, with a head several
sizes too large for him, set off by a long bill
and a pair of dark, beady eyes, soft and full,
placed high up and well back in his head so
that he commands a wide range of vision and
sees nearly as much behind him as ahead. It

124 FEATHERED GAME

is even said that at times lie watches an enemy
behind him so closely as to dart headlong into
a tree trunk and kill himself. This statement
probably belongs under the heading, "Interest-
ing if true." Such cases are extremely rare.
Most of us have too firm a faith in the bird's
ability to take care of himself to believe much
in this theory.

"With fear and trembling I approach the
statement I am about to make. Many fierce
arguments have been provoked and much scorn
and contumely have been heaped upon me be-
cause of it — but here goes : it is not commonly
known among sportsmen that the American
Woodcock will sometimes take to a tree when
disturbed. I have seen two birds do so, and
(dare I confess it?) I shot the first one as he
sat. It was my first Woodcock and I needed
him ; also I was but fifteen years old — let these
palliate the offense; moreover, the ethics of
sport in that section did not then forbid the
shooting of a roosting bird when it could be
done. I know of six other instances, in each
case the bird unshot at and unhurt, where reput-
able sportsmen have seen the same thing. It
was in one case a woodcock gunner of long ex-

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 125

perienee, who, when I had told him that I had
seen a woodcock perched in a tree, listened with
a politely incredulous smile, saying nothing, but
looking — "Well, I may want to tell you a 'bus-
ter' to match that when I have the time to manu-
facture it." He is now convinced, for he has
seen with his own eyes. I have in mind an-
other case where a man killed one that was
perching in an apple tree at dusk — shot him
with a club, too — but there! I see that my
reputation for truth-telling is entirely gone !

Yet why should not a Woodcock alight in a
tree? He passes his entire life in the thickest
tangle of the woods, and what is there strange
in his settling on a limb if he likes? "But,"
said one scoffer, "the Woodcock's foot is not
in the least fitted for the perching habit; he
could never keep on a limb." Certainly he is
as well fitted for it as a woodduck, a hooded
merganser, a whistler, a goose, or an upland
plover, and there seems to be no difficulty for
the same people to believe that the snipe, his
first cousin and much more a bird of the open
country, will fly up into a tree when alarmed
near its nest. The habit in the case of the
Woodcock also seems to be more common dur-

126 FEATHERED GAME

ing the nesting season, when few gunners are
in the covers and so are less likely to see this
strange sight. Within a week I have been in-
formed of two well authenticated instances of
this fact, though probably it was the same bird
in each case as the two happened within a few
yards of each other and a nest is near by.

With us in New England these seem to be
two great flights of Woodcocks in the fall, the
opening of the season finding here only those
birds which have bred in our borders. These
we carefully gather, in order to make room for
later arrivals, which are due about October
tenth to twentieth, — the first flight. The sec-
ond excursion comes about the time the first
cold storm of the fall strikes. These later
birds are from the extreme northern breeding
range of the family and usually average larger
in size and of lighter color than the local birds.
Our russet brown beauty of September is much
ruddier in shade than are these November visi-
tors. It seems the rule among most migrant
birds that those breeding in the northern
ranges average larger in size and less brilliant
in color. This statement as to comparative
size does not apply to the " Labrador twisters "

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 127

of the veteran woodcock gunner, — the few
stragglers picked up after the flights have gone
by, which are mostly old males and extremely
small. How they can twist and fly! If the
average "Woodcock had their ability the future
supply of "Long-bills" would be assured.

My latest kill on Woodcock was on November
25th; but the fault is mine, for I failed to ad-
vance this record five days by making a beau-
tiful two-cartridge miss on November 30th of
last season and for two weeks later there was an
occasional bird to be found, although there had
been a four-inch snowfall in the meantime. I
have known of their staying near an open
spring hole even later than this. (Maine rec-
ords.)

One word here on game protection : May the
day soon come when all spring shooting shall
be stopped: When the sale of game in the
markets shall be prohibited: When the law
shall everywhere regulate to a reasonable fig-
ure the number of birds which a man may take
in a day's hunt: These laws to apply every-
where that game is hunted. These things must
come soon or the question of game protection
will be solved for good and all — and not to your

128 FEATHERED GAME

wish and pleasure either, my brother sports-
man. I am glad to say that much of this has
been accomplished in my own State, and noth-
ing that has been done before has been of so
great benefit to the cause of game protection
and propagation. The good results of closing
the markets have already been proven in the
marked increase of the ruffed grouse in our
covers. Though but a few years' time has
elapsed the advantages have been conclusively
shown and the future promises even better
things.

But big bags of Woodcocks are growing more
and more uncommon. Even in covers once
rated as "sure finds" and held good for fair
shooting under any and all conditions the
' ' blank day ' ' is not the uncommon thing it once
was. If any of our game birds should be pro-
tected, and of course they should, surely the
Woodcock's need is greatest of all. The family
raised each season is very small — rarely are
there more than four in the brood — and it is
no wonder that the species is growing yearly
less numerous when we remember how persist-
ently they are hunted from the British Pro-
vinces to the Gulf, having no peace in any part

AMERICAN WOODCOCK 129

of their range except during a few months of
spring and early summer in the north. With
the exception of one State there is no protection
whatever for Woodcocks in the South.

They are certainly decreasing with terrible
rapidity. For the season just passed I am un-
able to find in a tolerably large acquaintance of
brush gunners one man whose total of Wood-
cocks was not materially less than in any former
season. My own score was less than half the
usual number, while of ruffed grouse I cap-
tured a half more than in any former year, and
I think this was a general condition of things
with the shooting fraternity in this section.
With all the hunters' demands upon him Mr.
Bonasa Umbellus is more than holding his own.

Of course, in the case of the Woodcock or
any migratory bird, legislation by any one
State or section of the country can do little for
its preservation, so that everywhere bird lovers
and sportsmen alike must work together, and
that right soon, if they would save this noble
game bird from extinction in the not far distant
future. Brother sportsman, wherever you are,
will you lend a hand?

130 FEATHERED GAME

WILSON'S SNIPE. AMERICAN SNIPE.
"ENGLISH SNIPE." "JACK SNIPE."

(Gallinago delicata.)

Through a common and widespread error
this American citizen is often called the "Eng-
lish Snipe." This last is one of the species
of the Old World, an extremely rare visitor
from Greenland, to which place it occasionally
strays from Europe. The difference between
the two birds is slight, however, and in size,
form, habits and general appearance they are
nearly identical. The distinguishing points,
then, are these: the European species, poor
thing, has only from twelve to fourteen feath-
ers in his rudder, and the barrings on the flanks
and axillars are much fainter than is produced
under a republican form of government. Our
own fortunate fellow citizen (as you have prob-
ably noted a thousand times when they have
risen before your gun) is the possessor of from
sixteen to eighteen tail feathers and heavy black
barrings on the flanks and axillars, but it is the
fashion with some gunners to suppose when
they have taken an exceptionally fine bird that

WILSON'S SNIPE 131

they have captured an "English Snipe," think-
ing he must be a "better" bird than our own.

Wilson's Snipe, under his many names, is
widely and favorably known in this country.
His winter range takes him to South America
and his spring flights carry him far into the
north. This last movement sometimes com-
mences in March and is usually over by the last
of April or the first of May. They remain
with us later in the fall than do any other of the
shore-birds. The writer has shot belated trav-
elers after Jack Frost had placed his signet
upon all the feeding places and "pondholes"
above the reach of the tide.

The Snipe has a peculiar habit called "drum-
ming," not widely different from the wood-
cock's spring-time vagaries, and, like these, per-
formed when on the wing. This is said to occur
both during the spring and fall months, even
more often in the latter season. As to this I
cannot say, since few Snipe are seen in my sec-
tion during the breeding season nor is spring
shooting looked upon with much favor here,
probably more because of game scarcity at the
time than from any unusual virtue of our citi-
zens. Thus far the writer has seen this per-

132 FEATHERED GAME

forroance but once, and then in the legitimate
shooting season. It was a bright October day
when a single Snipe, the sole dweller in the
marsh-land near by, entertained me in some-
thing after this manner: The bird mounted
upward fully one hundred yards, flying at great
speed in wide circles, then suddenly dropped
like a stone almost to the earth, his wings half
closed and moving rapidly. This was repeated
several times. The "drumming" sound is sup-
posed to be due to the action of the air upon
the stiff wing quills in their rapid motion, and
the music thus produced is very like that made
by the small boy when "humming a nail." At
times a number of Snipe join together in this
performance. When this occurs they are apt
to be very wild and difficult of approach, so we
are told.

The Snipe nests in some dry tussock in the
midst of the marsh, usually laying four eggs,
of a grayish green color, splashed with dark
brown spots. The young generally appear dur-
ing the latter half of June. A few of these
birds breed in the extensive marshes about the
Maine lakes, wandering into the tide-waters
late in September, but the best snipe shooting

WILSON'S SNIPE 133

on these coasts conies after one or two sharp
frosts have closed their free lunch in the
swamps of the interior, driving the birds from
their summer ranges and reminding them that
it is time to look for pleasanter quarters fur-
ther south. They form no large flocks, coming
along in " wisps" of two or three, mostly at
night, but, I think, not infrequently by day.
Authorities are divided as to this bird's habit
of migration, some saying that the Snipe al-
ways migrates by night, but from my own ob-
servation I am satisfied that he travels in the
daylight also. I remember seeing a flock of
seven (the largest number that I ever saw
traveling together) arrive in the marsh in mid-
afternoon, and my companion and I had the
pleasure of making it our own "personally
conducted excursion" before it left. What
seems most remarkable to us was the fact that
when we flushed them, after making a few cir-
cles in the air, they would come back to our
whistles just as a bunch of plover might have
done. This is almost the only occasion on
which I have seen them pay any attention to a
call, and presume that then the little family
did not want to be separated — nor did we our-

134 FEATHERED GAME

selves want it split up, so, apparently every-
body was pleased for once.

The Snipe is a fine fellow and a worthy ac-
quaintance for any gunner. He usually lies
well to the dog and gives forth a fairly strong
scent which a good dog will perceive at some
distance. He closely resembles his highly es-
teemed cousin, the woodcock, in his mode of
life, getting his living by boring in the mud of
the swamps and boggy places, both sea marsh
and inland, feeding on the worms and larvae
found there just as the woodcock does in the
moist places in the upland and the woods. I
have often known of Snipe being shot in a
woodcock cover, and in one instance it took six
cartridges to bring him to grass — this, too, by
good woodcock shots. That they were greatly
surprised at seeing him there and at hearing
his indignant "Sca-a-aipe! Sca-a-aipe!" as he
dodged about among the branches may have
had something to do with their poor shooting.
It may also be that the thickly growing brush
added a few extra aerial gymnastics to a flight
which is under any conditions sufficiently erratic
for most wing-shots.

As a rule it is in the spring that I meet Mr.

Z

ANiV«

-•'■■-. •■■-:. -- '

WILSON'S SNIPE 135

Snipe in the woods, along the brook-banks and
in the drain-holes in the fields; perhaps be-
cause the marshes are then swept bare of cover
by the ice of winter. He is commonly content
with the salt marshes alongshore in the fall mi-
grations, but at any season will go into any
place, whether marsh or upland, which can fur-
nish him a square meal and a soggy, moist soil
for his long bill to probe and bore into. You
may meet him in many a seemingly unlikely
spot: I remember how near I was to losing a
fine shot at a Snipe because of too little confi-
dence in my dog, — a youngster, — who was ap-
parently pointing a flock of hens in a farmer's
dooryard, within twenty yards of the house and
a mile at least from any snipe country. The
puppy stood firm and refused to leave his post
until his slow-witted master should come and
do his part. I am glad to say that I did not
disappoint my dog that time.

When in our New England marshes one of
October's perfect days follows a sharp frost —
and if the wind comes briskly out of the north-
west it is no harm — such a day means that it is
time to visit that stretch of mire and salt grass
which you know affords the best cover for Snipe

136 FEATHERED GAME

and that there is a fair prospect of getting a
good bag of birds, provided, always, that you
can handle a gun with the skill needful to cut
down the squeaking gray streak which doubles
and twists away in front of you. He gets under
way about as soon as any bird that flies, and
unless he lies close you must do the very quick-
est and most accurate work to stop him. There
is, in my humble opinion, no marsh gunning to
be compared with snipe-shooting over a good
dog, with birds plenty and not too wild. As a
rule they do not like to leave a good feeding
ground and so allow the sportsman to come
close before flushing, thus a man who knows
his ground may make a fair bag of birds with-
out a dog; but, to make an Irishman's "bull,"
the pleasure is doubled when shared with your
four-footed chum, for his every lithe move-
ment, graceful line and beautiful pose is plainly
seen.

Probably no bird which comes under the
sportsman's eye has such a reputation as a
dodger. He may throw summersaults sidewise
or endwise, or he may travel as straight as a
honey-laden bee, but however he may steer his
course he will have a full head of steam on and

WILSON'S SNIPE 137

move plenty fast enough, be sure of that!
When he flushes close to the gun he is very apt
to think that a little irregularity on his part
may add interest to the occasion, and in such
lines he is very much at home. Some of his
curves would make a "ball tosser's" fortune.
If, however, we wait until the cunning rascal
has twisted his little twist and finally straight-
ened out for some more healthy scene we may
cut loose with a fair chance of gathering him,
for he is not "hard lived" and a few pellets
will stop him. But even this plan will not al-
ways bring about their destruction, for some
old veterans of the bog will corkscrew for a
hundred yards with their heads over their
shoulders and their keen eyes following your
every movement, dropping suddenly to earth
and running a short distance to flush even
wilder next time. Such citizens are hard to
deal with; still, we can work down upon them
with the wind and so have a larger percentage
of cross shots where it is only a question of
proper leading, or we may take some day when
there is a strong breeze blowing and work with
the air in our faces. We shall thus have a fair
chance, as they invariably rise against the wind

138 FEATHERED GAME

and do not then twist so much, often offering
for a moment an almost stationary mark,
which, if you are a "snap shot," makes your
opportunity. May you improve it ever! My
own system is to snap at them as quickly as
possible and make ready at once to miss an-
other. For myself, I prefer to work across
and against the breeze, thus giving the dog
more advantage. The dog's part is ever more
than half the pleasure for me — perhaps be-
cause it is so much better done.

You can see many signs of their occupancy
as you trudge through the mire — the borings
in the black, oozy mud, the "whitewash" where
they have fed — and in the stubble where the
farmer has cut "salt hay" for bedding for his
cattle you start them singly and in pairs, keep-
ing dog, gun and yourself well occupied in
downing the swift-flying "longbills" which
have arrived during the night. No other of the
"bay snipe," as the game waders are termed,
furnish so good sport for dog and gun as does
Wilson's Snipe. Probably the Grassbird ranks
next in game qualities, as the others are not to
be hunted with a dog but are shot over ' ' stools ' '
or by stealthy approach. If you have hunted

WILSON'S SNIPE 139

the place much you will know just where to
find the birds, and have in mind every stretch
of mud, pondhole and clump of grass where you
have found them before. Sometimes you may
see the Snipe arriving in the marsh. Suddenly
he appears to you — where he came from you
know not — but there he is! With rapid wing
strokes he dashes around the marsh a hundred
yards up, seeking a suitable place on which to
rest and feed. His shining wing flickers in
the sun as the light colored under parts are
brought into sight and covered again, and he
shows up sharp and clear against the blue Oc-
tober sky as he goes darting over the tall wav-
ing grass and stretches of blue water, circling
about in silence — a marked contrast to any
other shorebird, which would have called and
whistled his arrival to every dweller in the
marsh, both friend and foe. Small success at-
tends your most alluring whistle for rarely does
the Snipe pay attention to any enticing call.
Our hero is unsocial and seldom cares for so-
ciety, even of his own aristocratic set, rarely
traveling in bunches of more than three birds
and more often coming alone. Now he has
found a place to his liking and half closing his

140 FEATHERED GAME

wings he pitches headlong downward, almost
perpendicularly to the ground. Surely he must
be dashed in pieces on the earth — but no, — a
bending of his body, a sudden spreading of his
wings when only a foot from the ground and he
alights upon his feet as gently as ever thistle-
down rested upon the summer sea. A wary
glance about him, and satisfied that all is well,
he begins feeding.

Now after him ! Across the narrow creek
with its slippery, shaky edges, and the
brown water hurrying seaward with the fall-
ing tide. Carefully, now! It is deep here.
The pointer plunges in and with half a dozen
rapid strokes gains the other side. Bal-
ancing on grassy hummocks which quiver be-
neath your tread you follow him. Fifty yards
ahead there is a small "pond-hole," margined
about with black mud and short, red-topped
grass, and this, you are sure, is his journey's
end. The dog is well in advance, going along
with a springy, slashing stride, but he pulls
up short, almost "turning a handspring" in his
sudden stand. You approach and wait, with
nerves a-tingle, for the bird to flush, then order
your dog on, only to find that he will not move.

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WILSON'S SNIPE 141

At this yon beat up the grass in front and on
either side, quartering in all directions, but still
no Snipe, and in wonder and disgust you are
tempted to give it up, your faith in your favor-
ite sorely shaken. But the dog stands firm, and
just here you plunge thigh deep into a hidden
drain-hole. "Scaipe! Scaipe!" Up between
your feet with startled squeak springs the ob-
ject of your search. Away like a streak the lit-
tle gray imp goes, darting, dodging and zig-
zagging, now right, now left, and all the time
adding to the distance between himself and the
threatening danger. You wrench yourself up
to the solid ground with a desperate effort and
pull yourself together, for it will never do now
to let him get away unscathed, and when by
some unaccountable accident you

" Hustle him down wi' a slug in his wing,"
(for they do sometimes blunder into a charge
of shot), before he is added to the collection in
your game bag let us look at his markings and
peculiarities. The pup has retrieved him beau-
tifully, sitting up to deliver the prize into your
hand with scarcely a feather ruffled. You han-
dle him with much satisfaction for he is a good
bird and you feel that you have fairly earned

142 FEATHERED GAME

him. He may weigh six ounces if appearances
count for anything. He is ten inches or so in
length, and in extent about eighteen inches.
His head is mainly black with a strip of pale
yellow ochre over the crown, and on each side
of the head another stripe of the same color
running to and above the eyes. Neck all
around streaked with black and pale brownish
yellow, the black predominating behind. The
wing quills and upper coverts are brownish
black, these last with tawny reddish and yel-
lowish markings. On his back the same dark
brown color, the scapulars, edged with golden
yellow and chestnut, making long stripes on
each side when the bird is at rest with closed
wings. The rump is black, the feathers tipped
with white; inside of wings, axillars and the
flanks white with regular barrings of black.
Tail feathers black, tipped with a rich chestnut
band, which is again divided by a narrow black
line, and the ends of the feathers lighter chest-
nut, fading to a whitish hue. His belly is
white; throat and breast yellowish, with strag-
gling lines of dull brown.

Let us hope that you will appreciate him at
the table. If you are a judge of the good things

WILSON S SNIPE 143

of life there is little room for doubt that you
will, for at any season the Snipe is tender and
of good flavor.

And so the sportsman tramps cheerily across
his mucky pleasure-ground, his eyes alight with
a soul-satisfying content as his dog careers
about in graceful quartering, head high and
tail a-switching. No fear that he will pass a
single twister — not he! Oho! Another one!
Mark that sudden swerve up-wind — those quiv-
ering nostrils as he "snuffs the tainted gale."
And now, like the work of some grand sculp-
tor, he stands motionless in the open sunlight,
beauty and life in every line and curve, his
muscles tense and rigid, awaiting his master's
coming. No less eager than his dog, and hast-
ening as fast as hip boots and sucking mire will
allow, the sportsman moves up. He gets him-
self into position to shoot quickly, tests the
safety catch to be sure his weapon is ready, and
then chirrups to his dog to move in. Whiz-z-z !
Something streaks it from the grass and mire
just ahead of the dog — "Scaipe! — Scaipe!" —
a rasping note emitted from a small form fast
turning out corkscrews of ever-growing dis-
tance. Bang! Bang! May the recording

144 FEATHERED GAME

angel turn a deaf ear to the all-too-energetic ex-
pressions of the sportsman, who is gazing earn-
estly into space before him with disgust in every
lineament and blistering eloquence hurrying
from his tongue! Two empty cartridge cases
idly smoking in the mire represent another
waste of ammunition, and still the would-be
slayer stares, unable to believe the evidence of
his eyes. Yet the reason for his failure is not
far to seek — our friend, as someone has beauti-
fully said, has "shot zig just as the Snipe
turned zag. "

There is no fear that the sportsman of the
east will deserve opprobrium because of too
much snipe-slaughter. That is hardly possible
under our game conditions. Here are no such
chances as the spring flights afford our west-
ern brothers. Somehow Snipe are rare in that
season, and even in the fall months a dozen
Snipe to a gun in a day is a good killing in most
New England marshes. Still, with the "yel-
lowlegs" and "grassbirds" and on occasion
the stray teal and black duck, our gunners
will make a satisfactory bagful. To many the
uncertainty as to what the charge may be
unloosed at next lends an added charm to

THE BROWN-BACK 145

marsh gunning, but for myself, my shooting
ability furnishes all the charm of uncertainty
needed.

THE BROWN-BACK. DOWITCHER.
RED-BREASTED SNIPE.

(Macrorhamphus griseus.)

At certain seasons this is a common bird all
along the Atlantic coast line, choosing the long
stretches of sandy beach rather than the home
of Wilson's snipe in fresh water bog and salt
marsh. These birds are but little known in
New England save on the seashore, where dur-
ing the migrations they are for a few days
abundant, then are gone and nothing more is
seen of them until the next flight arrives. They
appear on our beaches on their northward jour-
ney sometimes during the latter half of April
though oftener late in May, and stay with us
but a day or so at most, returning to the south
more leisurely, generally in August. They
breed far away in the north and in their fall
migrations often follow the retreating sun into
the southern hemisphere, journeying southward
to Brazil.

146 FEATHERED GAME

Unlike Wilson's snipe, which travels in small
bunches of two or three birds, or at the most
the members of a family making np the party,
the Brown-backs fly in large flocks more after
the habit of the sandpipers, which family they
resemble in many other particulars.

Less wary than the average of the shore-
birds, ordinarily but little difficulty is experi-
enced in getting within shot range. They fly in
solid masses and their flocks in close order offer
the best of chances to the shooter whose ambi-
tion is to make a big bag of birds, so that they
are killed in great numbers if the gunner hap-
pens upon them during their short stay on our
coast. All things considered it is fortunate for
them that they arrive unexpectedly and depart
without notice after no long stay. Indeed, it is
a matter for wonder that the shorebirds were
not exterminated long ago. It would almost
seem impossible to keep up the supply in the
face of the gunner's demands, especially when
we remember how small are the families raised.

The fall migrations do not bring so many of
these birds upon our shores as do the spring
flights. It may be that the returning tourists
pass to the westward of us, or perhaps out to

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THE BROWN-BACK 147

sea ; but whatever the reason the fact remains.
Those which do visit us are less inclined to
hurry their departure than in the spring when
untrammeled by young birds of limited flight
powers.

If the gunner's good genius leads him to the
beach on the day of their arrival he may chance
to have some sport that will long be remem-
bered. Down on some long sandbar in the early
morning, snug in his shallow pit or grass-hid-
den blind with his life-like bunch of decoys set
twenty yards or so away, the lucky fellow is
almost certain to make a good bag of birds.
In the air their flocks are the most compact
of all the bay birds, and in search of food they
pass over the beach and waves at from ten to
fifteen feet above the surface. Their migra-
tory flights are often made at a considerable
height, though if a whistle can reach them they
are apt to come down for investigation. Hear-
ing the mimicry of their own notes and anxious
to aid those who have been cut down by the dis-
charge they will return to the decoys not once
but many times until the flock has been sadly
reduced.

In the west there is a variety of this bird

148 FEATHERED GAME

averaging slightly larger, a little darker in color
and having a somewhat longer bill, Macrorham-
phus griseus scolopaceus. This is as rarely
taken on the range of the eastern variety as is
the eastern bird in the country of his relation,
but if they chance to meet they travel together
in most cousinly fashion.

Our eastern bird is marked thus : above, black,
varied with reddish brown, tawny yellow, and
on the back with white ; these last colors mainly
on the tips and edges of the feathers. Top of
the head dusky; a whitish line running from
the base of the bill over the eye ; a dusky patch
extending from the bill to the eye. Throat,
breast and sides russet brown and reddish,
paler underneath and with dusky marks and
barrings. Tail and its upper coverts black,
with white or light reddish barrings. Rump
white, showing sharply as the bird flies. Bill
and feet greenish black; feet slightly webbed,
so that the bird, like most shorebirds, is a fair
swimmer at need. The female is similarly col-
ored though a trifle paler and is a bit smaller
than her mate. Though not so "stocky" in
figure, the Brown-back is altogether snipe-like in
appearance.

THE STILT SANDPIPER 149

The length of this species is from ten to
eleven and one-half inches ; its extent from sev-
enteen to nineteen inches ; bill from two to three
inches long, varying much in specimens. A
prime favorite with the shore gunner and a fine
table bird, tender and well flavored.

THE STILT SANDPIPER.

(Micropalama himantopus.)

Supposed to be found in all parts of the con-
tinent, this is a rare bird in any part of North
America and of even more uncommon occur-
rence westward of the Rockies. This species
breeds in the summer range of the family in the
far north and in winter goes away to the south
with the other shorebirds into their ranges of
the West Indies, Central and South America.
As a rule it travels in small flocks of its own
kind or associates with the dowitchers and lesser
yellow-legs, to the advantage of both these spe-
cies, for the Stilt Sandpiper either has less con-
fidence in mankind or is gifted with a more
critical taste in music and is not so readily de-
ceived by the marsh gunner's whistle as are
its friends. In its nesting, food and life habits

150 FEATHERED GAME

very similar to the little yellow-legs. Very few
nests have been found, however.

The summer and winter plumages differ con-
siderably from each other, the breeding dress
being quite like that of the brownback while
the winter bird is mainly clad in ashy grays and
white. Above, the summer dress is dusky or
black of varying intensity, the edges and tips
of the feathers marked with white or reddish
yellow. A dusky line running from the eyes to
the bill, and above the eyes a streak of light
brownish red. Tail feathers gray, whitening
on the edges, and sometimes in the centres the
same shade. Upper tail coverts white with
black bars. Wing quills dusky, blackening at
the tips. Below, reddish with black and white
barrings and streakings ; bill, legs and feet dull
greenish black. The bird is about eight and
one-half inches long; in extent from sixteen to
seventeen inches.

An odd-looking bird whose long legs make it
merit well the name of Stilt Sandpiper. It can
hardly be mistaken by anyone having an ac-
quaintance with the family.

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BAIRD'S SANDPIPER 151

BAIRD'S SANDPIPER.

(Actodromas bairdii.)

Though probably not so rare here as com-
monly supposed, this sandpiper is nowhere
numerous along the coast of North America.
It is generally distributed throughout the in-
terior of our country, and while very rare on
the Pacific coast of North America south of
Alaska, is said to be a regular visitor to the
west coast of South America.

This variety differs but little in its habits and
mode of life from our better known ' ' peeps ' ' ex-
cept that as a rule it travels in smaller flocks
and is less dependent on mud flats or marsh
for its living. It is as much at home in the
mountain pasture or prairie land as anywhere,
and like the "upland," is content to dwell in
the highlands, far from ordinary shorebird
haunts. In such places its food is of grasshop-
pers, bugs and berries. In the east, Baird's
Sandpiper is found in the company of any of
our own varieties.

This bird breeds in the Arctic regions arriv-
ing early on the the nesting grounds, and laying

152 FEATHERED GAME

four eggs for its contribution toward the con-
tinuance of its race.

In appearance this species is very near to
the white-rumped sandpiper, with the same gen-
eral scheme of coloring though of grayer tones
and with dusky instead of white on the rump
as in the other. The two are close together in
measurements ; if there is any difference Baird's
is a trifle the smaller, being about seven inches
long and about fifteen inches in sail spread.
The edges of the feathers are lighter — reddish
yellow in this bird — and the feet and legs are
black. The young bird in August and the old
bird in winter dress are even paler, and at any
age and in any plumage Baird's Sandpiper is
noticeably lighter in color than is the white-
rumped. But if there is any doubt as to the
identity of a specimen the white or dusky color
of the rump will place the bird at once. The
only other " peep " likely to be mistaken for
this one is the " grassbird," or pectoral sand-
piper, which is considerably larger and has
darker centres and ruddier edges to the feath-
ers of the upper parts.

THE "PEEPS" 153

THE" PEEPS."
SEMIPALMATED SANDPIPER.

(Ereunetes pusillus.)

LEAST SANDPIPER.

Actodromas minutilla.)

WHITE-RUMPED SANDPIPER.

(Actodromas fuscicollis.)

What will become of the beginners in the
art of wing shooting when the little "Sand-
peep's" gentle "peet-weet" is no more to be
heard along the muddy banks of our marshes
and tide-waters? This is a grave question for
coming generations to solve, for the poor per-
secuted little "peep" furnishes the object les-
son in the very first school — the kindergarten,
as it were — of the shotgun crank's education.

Gentle, confiding and unsuspicious in their
nature, their trustful simplicity is the cause of
great loss of life among their close-flying flocks.
The small boy with his ancient musket has
wrought great havoc in their ranks, and even
the older gunner sometimes takes a post-gradu-

154 FEATHERED GAME

ate course long enough to get the material for
a "sandpeep pie." Poor little things! For
the one mouthful of goodness which makes your
small bodies thus must you suffer !

Out in the marsh grass when the late sum-
mer has come, during the latter half of August,
for a short time the flocks of fleet-winged little
birds come scurrying in with gentle, flute-like
piping, flying in from outer islands and bar-
ren ledges where they have rested during the
high tide. Now the fast receding water is leav-
ing bare the soft black ooze of the "flats," full
and overcrowded with snails and tiny marine
creatures, a veritable storehouse of good things
to be had for the taking. Against the watery
background their white bodies gleam an in-
stant, and the little fellows show like a thin
wreath of spray borne on the wind. As they
dart in erratic flight another turn brings the
dark backs into view, and next second they
are lost as they skim across the patches of
grass just beginning to show above the tide.
Presently they "pitch" in a sheltered, muddy
cove, and in their heedless innocence may have
alighted almost at the feet of their enemy. At
once they scatter and begin to feed, running

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THE "PEEPS" 155

prettily with nimble and graceful steps over
the slimy surface which bears their light forms
easily. Mark how their pursuer flounders, well
nigh mired in the chase. At length a consider-
able number being together for a brief instant,
he fires. Another barrel when the frightened
little creatures are in the air, and for a hundred
yards the cripples drop out and struggle to get
ashore to hide in the grass.

The average gunner as he happens upon these
little flocks seldom troubles them. If the beach
be covered with their squads and companies he
may take aim along his gun barrels at their
most compact masses and figure out the prob-
able destruction which the pressure of his fin-
ger might cause, then throwing the gun into
the hollow of his arm, goes out of his way that
he may not disturb their happiness. But all
too often comes the deadly flash with its fatal
effects, and many are killed and others, less
fortunate, are crippled, to fall behind the flock
and with their last strength struggle ashore to
await their release.

On the high tide they collect on the ledges
standing out of the water and huddle in a bunch
on the sunny side. They love to cuddle down

156 FEATHERED GAME

on the drifting "thatch" in the quietest corners
of the marsh. When pushing for rails the gun-
ner often interrupts their noon-day nap, almost
driving his craft over them before they take
wing, returning at once when the boat has
passed.

The spring migrations take place during
April and May, and they nest far into the north.
It is usually as late as August fifteenth before
they begin to arrive in any numbers in New
England marshes, where they stay well into
October.

The most common of the Sandpipers here are
the Least and the Semipalmated. Both these
little fellows range over a large part of our
hemisphere, the latter travelling from the West
Indies, Central and South America to the ex-
treme north, mainly on the eastern slope of the
continent. The Least Sandpiper is even more
of a wanderer, for besides covering the same
wide range of country as his cousin he finds time
to visit Europe occasionally.

The Least Sandpiper as we see him in his
summer dress is colored above with dusky
brown and black through the centres of the
feathers, the edges tinged with reddish brown

THE "PEEPS" 157

and white; rump blackish; tail feathers dusky,
growing grayer toward the outer feathers;
wing quills dusky ; a blackish line from the bill
to the eye, and above this a white line. Below,
mainly white. Dusky specklings on a pale red-
dish brown ground on lower throat, breast and
neck. Upper throat white. Feet dull greenish.
Iris brown. Length about five and one-half
inches ; extent nearly eleven inches.

The Semipalmated Sandpiper is much like
the foregoing in color, and the two are often
found together. This bird is a very little larger
— perhaps half an inch longer — and somewhat
grayer in coloring, but in any case may be
known by the partial webbing of the toes. This
species also nests northward to the Arctic
shores.

The White-rumped Piper is almost large
enough to be worth shooting. It is from seven
to eight inches long, with a wing spread of fif-
teen inches. This is the sandpiper most com-
monly found in the marshes during September
and October, here associating with the "grass-
birds." It is also a common species inland,
and everywhere one of the most unsuspicious
of the shorebirds, paying no more heed to an in-

158 FEATHERED GAME

truder than polite curiosity demands. When
found on the seacoast it is generally met along
the rocky shores, and from this fact is called
by many shore dwellers the "rock peep" to
distinguish him from the smaller species, citi-
zens of the "mud flats." He is marked much
like the others but a trifle grayer in color and
has a greenish-black bill and feet. Breast,
front and sides of neck yellowish brown,
streaked with dark brown and black lines.
Above, dusky brown and black, with lighter
edges to the feathers; upper tail coverts pure
white. Tail feathers blackish, growing lighter
toward outer feathers, these white-edged. Be-
low, white, spotted and streaked with dusky and
brownish lines on the sides. This species is
common on the eastern half of our continent and
and is occasionally found in Europe. It does
not breed in the United States, but goes far
north, as is the habit of the family. This bird
is also called "Bonaparte's Sandpiper."

THE GRASSBIRD 159

THE GRASSBIRD. PECTORAL SAND-
PIPER.

(Actodromas maculata.)

One of our commonest marsh birds. Few of
our feathered friends are more widely known
than is the Grassbird. He is found at the dif-
ferent seasons in North, Central and South
America, the West Indies, Greenland, Europe
and Asia. With us he is but a migrant visitor
and is not known to nest within New England's
borders, or for that matter, elsewhere in the
United States. In fact, very little is known of
their breeding habits as there are very few rec-
ords of the finding of either nests or eggs. It
is supposed that they nest in the Arctic regions
generally.

They begin to arrive in our latitudes on their
southern way during August, and their flocks
continue to arrive and pass along until the se-
verer weather of the fall commences, by which
time they are all in the sunny south and safe
from any danger of frost bite. Their migra-
tory flights commonly take place at night, as
is the rule of the bay birds. They come along

160 FEATHERED GAME

in flocks averaging from twenty to fifty mem-
bers, rarely more, and split up into small par-
ties upon arrival in our marshes, gathering
again into larger bunches when they resume
their travels.

The Grassbird is swift of wing and snipe-like
in many respects, lying well to the dog and af-
fording good sport when so hunted. From this
similarity of habits, their proper behavior in
dog society, their occasional darting flight —
sometimes dodging from side to side when much
alarmed — they are called "Jack-Snipe" by
many gunners, a term more widely applied to
Wilson's snipe. Where this name is given the
Grassbird the true snipe is usually called the
"English snipe." The Grassbird is known by
many other names in the different localities
which he visits, among them "Grass Snipe,"
"Marsh Plover," and "Meadow Snipe," most
gunners insisting on calling him a Snipe, except
in New England, where he is generally known
as the "Grassbird."

In times past these birds were not much mo-
lested, being thought beneath the gunner's no-
tice and not worth the ammunition needed for
their destruction, but in the present game scar-

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THE GRASSBIRD 161

city conditions are changed, and now, since the
Grassbirds are the most numerous species of
the "bay snipe" in New England marshes, as
a consequence they pay the heaviest tribute to
the sportsman. On ordinary days of shore-
bird shooting there are nearly always more of
this species in the marsh gunner's game bag
than of any other. Of course there are never-
to-be-forgotten days when "it rained beetle-
heads, ' ' or the ' ' goldens ' ' were out in force, but
as luck generally runs this statement will hold
good. Ordinarily there is small difficulty in ap-
proaching a flock; the younger birds are espe-
cially tame and even curious, often coming
within a few yards of a gunner to examine the
disturber of their peace; but again the old
campaigner will dash away upon sight with
loud, derisive whistling and a darting flight,
like the snipe's, which, with his smaller size
makes fully as difficult shooting as does Mr.
Longbill.

The Pectoral Sandpiper, as this bird is called
by the scientist, is a lover of the low-lying wet
meadows, either of the salt- or fresh-water
marshes, seldom found on the sea beaches or the
muddy flats, but when the salt hay has been cut

162 FEATHERED GAME

in the sea marshes of New England there are
usually many of this family running about,
probing into the soft, oozy soil, and feeding on
the worms, snails and slugs so abundant there.
They are very welcome to the gunner since they
are good table birds, fat and well-flavored at
any season. Grassbirds come readily to the
gunner's call, single birds or flocks coming
equally well to the imitation of their note.
Their whistle is almost identical with that of
the smaller sandpipers and the two are often
found in company.

During the courtship the male bird inflates
the skin of his throat and breast to such an ex-
tent that it hangs down upon his breast like a
bag. From this circumstance comes the name,
Pectoral Sandpiper. Yet he is probably no
more ' ' puffed up " at his success than is the hu-
man bridegroom at the same important epoch
in his career.

The Grassbird's clothing is of sober tints ; the
top of his head brown with black markings,
these mainly in the centres of the feathers;
throat white ; sides of the head and around neck
pale yellowish brown with small black streaks
running through it. Superciliary stripe of white,

THE PURPLE SANDPIPER 163

loral patch dark brown. Scapulars and tertia-
ries dark brown and black with buff or whitish
edges. Wing coverts light grayish brown with
lighter, even whitish, edges to the feathers.
Primaries dark brown. Rump and tail coverts
brownish black. Tail with dark brown central
feathers, growing lighter toward the sides, outer
pair margined with white. Feet and legs dull
olive. In length from eight to nine and one-
half inches, and ranging from fifteen to seven-
teen in extent. An overgrown least sandpiper
in appearance.

THE PURPLE SANDPIPER. "ROCK-
WEED BIRD."

(Arquatella maritima.)

With the winter comes the Purple Sandpiper
out of the north, seeking warm weather in Jan-
uary and February on the New England coast !
But then, he has his own ideas as to climate.

This is a dweller on the sea ledges, truly
named the "Rockweed Bird," for on the brown
and slippery masses of seaweed on the deep-
water ledges he finds the snails and marine
creatures which furnish his table. Only on the

164 FEATHERED GAME

shores of the outer islands where he has no
company but the swash of the waves and the
seething hiss of driving snow as it is swallowed
up in the sea is the Purple Sandpiper at home.
Hardy indeed is he and no stress of weather
seems to trouble him. He is the only resident
awake when the sleepy prowler, planning death
and destruction to the sea ducks, is headed for
his hiding place among the rocks, and in the
gray mist rising from the ocean he looks to the
heavy eyes of the gunner almost as large as a
duck himself.

Easy of approach and fearless because seldom
molested, since on account of timing their visits
to our coasts during the winter season the shore-
bird shooter entirely misses seeing them and
the winter gunner is after larger game, they
pay little heed to an approaching boat. A gen-
erous supply of suitable clothing keeps them
comfortable in any weather. They may be seen
dozing complacently in the sun on a winter af-
ternoon when the mercury has gone down out of
sight in the glass, for their homes and chosen
haunts are in the north, and only the closing
up of those waters by the winter's ice forces
them into our latitudes at all.

This " hardy Norseman" has the figure of the

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THE PURPLE SANDPIPER 165

typical sailorman, thickset and heavy, more
compact in his build than any other of his fam-
ily which visits us. This may be because he
has not had to dodge shot and run from the
summer gunner all through the hot weather;
thus he gets a chance to put on flesh.

Having seen them only in the winter, and
since they are taken here at no other season, it
may be best to describe them in the dress of that
season. Above, colored on the centres of the
feathers a deep bluish black with a purplish
gloss, the edges and tips of the the feathers blu-
ish ash. Greater, middle and lesser wing cov-
erts and scapulars white-edged. Primaries and
tail feathers dusky. Below, the throat and
breast bluish ash, this color extending along
the sides, paler and whitening on the edges of
the feathers. Remaining lower parts mainly
white. Legs and feet flesh-colored; bill about
one and one-quarter inches long, slightly down-
curved, dusky green with flesh-colored base.
The length of this bird is about nine inches ; ex-
tent from fifteen to sixteen inches.

This species rarely goes much south of New
England, perhaps to the Middle States, and
though chiefly found on the seacoast is an oc-
casional visitor to the Great Lakes.

166 FEATHERED GAME

THE RED-BACKED SANDPIPER.

BLACK-BELLIED SANDPIPER.

AMERICAN DUNLIN.

(Pelidna alpina sakhalina.)

Very generally scattered over North Amer-
ica, but mainly dwelling on the coasts. Breeds
in the far north. They are more common in the
United States during the seasons of migration
than at any other time, being then fairly abun-
dant all along the coast line. Their journey-
ings are performed in large flocks and in their
travels of the winter months they even visit
South America. The family has its representa-
tives in the Old World, so closely resembling
our own species that only an expert (and he not
always) could distinguish between them.

In the breeding dress, the upper parts are a
deep reddish brown, with the central parts of
the feathers dusky or black. Rump and tail
coverts nearly black; tail feathers, wing quills,
(outer webs of these still darker) and coverts
dusky gray, the greater coverts often tipped
with white. Secondaries mostly white. Below,

THE RED-BACKED SANDPIPER 167

white; throat and upper breast thickly speckled
with dusky, and an abdominal area of black,
varying much in size. Bill and feet black, the
bill somewhat down-curved at the tip. Have
seen birds shot in September wearing nearly
such a plumage as this. In the winter coat
much of the red has disappeared and the black
of the belly is also lacking. A plain, slatey-
gray above and pure white below, but there is
scarcely any bird with which to confound him.
Length eight or nine inches; sail spread about
fifteen inches. The American variety may
average rather larger than his Old World
brother. The Dunlins are very generally known
by the bay gunners as "Fall Snipes," and are
reasonably abundant during August and Sep-
tember, growing more numerous as the autumn
advances to reach their greatest numbers near
the end of the shooting season. Rather late
visitors and among the last to go south in the
fall.

In New England these birds are rarely seen
away from the salt marshes of the coast and
unless in large flocks of their own kind they are
apt to be found in company with the "grass-

168 FEATHERED GAME

birds" or the dowitchers. They are very wel-
come in the game-bag of the marsh gunners
for, although they are not large, they are always
fat, of good flavor and fine table birds.

THE SANDERLING. " BEACH BIRD."

(Calidris arenaria.)

The Sanderling is an inhabitant of almost
every country and clime, passing the nesting
season within the Arctic Circle and migrating
to and beyond the tropics in the winter.
Though sometimes found on the shores of the
larger inland lakes, with us the bird is almost
entirely maritime. They are quite common
here in New England, a visitor to our sandy
beaches in August usually finding plenty of
these birds, either in small flocks of their own
kind or united with the smaller "sandpeeps"
or the "ringnecks." Their favorite feeding
places are at the edges of incoming waves, just
keeping out of their reach as they advance and
charging back as the water goes down.

Generally the Sanderling is unsuspicious and
will allow close approach unless in a locality
where much disturbed. It is large enough to be

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THE SANDERLING 169

worth the ammunition necessary to its capture
and is a very fair bird for the table — that is,
enough of them are. It comes readily to call,
whether of "peep," "ringneck," or other of
its acquaintances, for it is very sociable in its
nature, and the gunner who is seeking the in-
gredients for a shorebird pie can not do better
than use these birds for material.

He is a plump and "chunky" little fellow, his
build and figure reminding us of the "beetle-
head." The fall adult and the young of the
year are not so brilliantly colored as are the
spring birds. For the most part the fall coat
is made up of modest and sober colors — gray,
black and white. The breeding dress is
brighter, the upper parts mottled with ashy,
black, and light reddish brown, with these col-
ors also on the sides of the neck and throat,
the black in broad areas through the centres
of the feathers, the light colors on the edges
and tips. A white area at the base of ^ach of
the inner primaries, together with the greater
part of the secondaries, also white, make a con-
spicuous mark of this color when the wing is
spread. Rump and upper tail coverts dusky
with fine edgings of white. Bill and feet black.

170 FEATHERED GAME

The Sanderling's foot looks like a smaller model
of the beetlehead's with its three short, stout
toes; it has no hind toe — the only one of our
sandpipers thus constructed.

This bird is a dweller on the sea-beaches,
niainly those of the outer shores. Very rarely
is it that they come into the long stretches of
" flats" or tide-water marshes so dear to the
other members of their family.

The length of this species is about eight in-
ches; extent from sixteen to sixteen and one-
half inches.

THE ROBIN SNIPE, GRAY BACK, OR
"KNOT."

RED-BREASTED SANDPIPER.

(Tringa canutus.)

World wide in its range, this bird is known in
both hemispheres; in America mostly on the
eastern coast, though occasional stragglers are
found on the beaches of the Great Lakes. This
is a beautiful bird, the largest of the sandpip-
ers.

Not very wary and coming quite readily when
"whistled," they suffer considerably from the

THE ROBIN SNIPE 171

gunner when flighting. They are very fair
birds for the table and are well esteemed by the
shore gunner. Like the greater number of the
shore birds they make their summer homes in
the far north and there rear up their families.
In their winter travels they go well down the
coast of South America.

In their breeding dress the upper parts are
dusky brown, the feathers with lighter tips and
edges ; scapulars yellowish on the edges. Rump
dark grey with more or less distinct dusky bar-
rings. Upper tail coverts white with wavy bars
of dusky. Tail grayish, outer feathers whitish.
Below, brownish red, fading on flanks and tail
coverts to gray or white. Line of same reddish
hue over each eye. Bill quite stout and rather
longer than is the rule in this family, dusky
green in color, as are also the feet and legs.

The autumn plumage of the young bird is a
beautiful bit of feather work although made up
of no bright colors. Above, everywhere except
on rump and tail coverts, a delicate ashy grey,
each feather margined about by a fine edging of
white with a narrow subterminal line of black
within this last, giving to the plumage a pe-
culiarly rich and elegant effect. Even the black

172 FEATHERED GAME

primaries are white-margined. Below every-
where white, on the throat and neck faintly and
irregularly streaked, and on the flanks marked
with wavy bars, of black.

THE GREAT MARBLED GODWIT.

(Limosa fedoa.)

With the exception of the " sickle-billed cur-
lew" this is the largest of our shore-birds.
This species is mainly found in the interior
through the central portions of the continent
where usually its migratory flights are made,
and, except well to the southward, it is not com-
mon along the Atlantic coast ; especially rare on
New England's shores.

The bird looks like an overgrown " brown-
back" with his red color and long, snipe-like bill.
The wings are ample, extending well beyond the
short, square-cut tail. He is a big fellow, meas-
uring from seventeen to twenty inches in length,
and having a spread of wings varying from
thirty-three to thirty-seven inches. His general
color is a light brownish red, everywhere on the
back this shade showing on the edges and tips
of the feathers, the central field of each being

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THE GREAT MARBLED GODWIT 173

jet black. The breast and along the sides are
marked to a greater or less extent with dusky
lines across the feathers. The linings of the
wings are marked with the same red color of the
upper parts, usually brighter here and on the
breast. Wing quills dark brown, growing
dusky at the tips. No white anywhere on the
bird except on the shafts of the primaries. Bill
flesh-colored, growing dusky toward the tip.
Legs blackish, the toes stout and flattened un-
derneath, margined about by a considerable
membrane. Sexes marked alike.

Nests like the "upland," anywhere in open
fields, or in the marshes in the more usual
shorebird manner. Eggs three to four, grayish
green, faintly splashed with brownish spots.

It is a great pity that we do not see more of
the Godwits in our territory for as a game bird
and a delicacy for the table they rank well.
Their flesh is equal to that of any of the smaller
shorebirds and superior to that of most of them.

174 FEATHERED GAME

HUDSONIAN GODWIT.

(Limosa haemastica.)

The whole of North, Central and South Amer-
ica is the habitat of this species. In North
America most common on the eastern half, and
while nowhere abundant, this is the godwit most
often taken in New England. It is very rare
on the Pacific coast, or, in fact anywhere west
of the Rockies. It is considerably different
from the species last described, and of smaller
size. The black rump and white tail coverts
will show the distinction at once, to say nothing
of the barrings in black and white on the under
parts; also the linings of the wings are black-
ish. These are the most striking differences;
for the rest, above, blackish, with a greenish
gloss, the edges of the feathers scalloped with
red-brown, tawny yellow and grayish. Primar-
ies dusky with white shafts, darkening at the
tips. Coverts dusky, tipped with white. Rump
black. Upper tail coverts white. Tail feath-
ers black, white at base and white-tipped. Be-
low, reddish chestnut, crossed with irregular
black bars; lower breast, flanks and under tail
coverts more heavily barred and having con-

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HUDSONIAN GODWIT 175

siderable white. Bill dull orange, blackening
at the tip. Legs black. Length from fourteen
to sixteen; extent from twenty-two to twenty-
five inches.

In winter the colors of its plumage are
much lighter. The upper parts a grayish
brown with very little of the showy colors of
the breeding dress. To the casual observer it
closely resembles the willet, showing the same
sober hues as does Symphemia at this season,
though white patch on primaries and bluish legs
of willet to say nothing of the differences of the
tails, should distinguish between the two at
once.

This species is said to decoy readily and to
be easily lured by a good imitation of its note,
though wary and cautious beyond most shore-
birds if it suspects danger. In more favored
localities they are said to travel in large flocks,
but in New England the rule is some half-a-
dozen in a bunch, or more commonly a single
lone traveler on his way to the southland.
Very rarely are they taken in our borders dur-
ing the spring migration.

Nests mostly in the far north, along the Arc-
tic shores. Eggs, three to four, brownish olive,
splashed with darker spots.

176 FEATHERED GAME

THE WILLET.

(Symphemia semipalmata.)

This bird seems to be closely related to the
"yellow-legs" and is somewhat like it in its
coloration, but is considerably heavier in figure
and of greater size, having also a stouter and
heavier bill. The Willet does not go so far
north as does his cousin of the yellow stockings
and throughout North America is more south-
ern in his range, few of these birds breeding
much beyond the northern boundaries of the
United States. They pass the winter months
in South America and along the shores of the
Gulf of Mexico.

The Willet is colored thus : above, ashy gray,
mottled with black. Rump dusky; tail coverts
mainly white. Tail grayish white, faintly
black-barred, with the outer feathers nearly
white. Below, white with blackish arrowheads
as in the "yellowshanks." Axillars, edges and
linings of the wings blackish. Primaries nearly
black with the white bases of the feathers half
hidden by the coverts. Some of the secondaries
also white, thus making a considerable area

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THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 177

of this color in the wing. Bill dusky: Legs
dull bluish; feet half- webbed, so that if the
occasion calls for it they can swim, though sel-
dom is this attempted unless hard pushed. In
length from fourteen to sixteen inches; extent
from twenty-four to twenty-six.

This bird is very noisy and has a piercing,
far-reaching note from which the name of the
species has been taken. It is not easy of ap-
proach, but is wary and restless in the extreme.

Its food is procured along the muddy edges
in the same manner and of the same sort as
makes the menu of the "yellow-legs." The
nesting habits also are nearly identical with
those of Totanus. The eggs vary in number
from three to four, dull greenish in color,
brown-spotted.

THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS.

(Totanus melanoleucus.)

The "Tell-tale," "Tattler," or "Winter Yel-
low-leg Plover," as the various names are
given him in different localities where he is
known, is a common visitor in our New England
marshes, both on the seacoast and on the boggy

178 FEATHERED GAME

edges of our inland lakes and rivers. He is a
shy, watchful and wary fellow, usually difficult
of approach, and gets his name, the " Tattler,"
because he invariably arouses all the game
within hearing of his piercing whistle as he
takes wing at the sight of the skulking gunner.
After Mr. Yellow-legs' kindly warning every
bird in the marsh is on the alert and watchful
if it does not go out with its long-legged friend.
If the "Winter" is with them, silent and con-
tent, the game birds in his vicinity feed on and
enjoy themselves with a sense of perfect se-
curity, but let his monitory note be heard and
the chances are that every duck, snipe or plover
within hearing will be up and away with their
watchful picket. How many good shots at un-
suspecting ducks has this bird spoiled with his
alarming whistle! And how much vain pro-
fanity has been bestowed upon his unmindful
head !

He is a tall and graceful bird, elegantly pro-
portioned, with a long neck and bill, and a leg of
marvelous length and slenderness. A speedy
and easy runner, a graceful walker, and on the
wing one of the bravest birds that ever glad-
dened the sportsman's eyes. Being partially

THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 179

webbed on bis middle and outer toes be is a fair
swimmer at need.

Lonely sea-beach, rockweed-covered ledge, or
wind-swept expanse of waving grass witb its
brigbt strips of water reflecting tbe blue above
— tbese are tbe baunts of tbe many birds num-
bered among tbe "bay snipe," and tbougb tbe
woodcock enthusiast and grouse hunter is in-
clined to belittle tbis style of shooting it is not
every bungler who can "make a double" on
these swift coursers of the marsh, and it is very
pleasant in the bright August days for the
sportsman to sit in his innocent looking blind
at tbe edge of a promising pool or to wander
from one feeding ground to another — from
muddy creek to brown-margined "pond-bole,"
with his gun ever ready for the chance which
fortune may send him. A clear, bright day, the
sun glinting in diamond points on the blue
waves and glistening on the sails far out at sea ;
the dazzling white of the sandbanks and the
bar which marks the river's mouth showing
through the breaks in the tall grass; and the
mellow pipings of the birds as the flocks sweep
past in full career ; all go to make a day's outing
fit to offset a year of care and worriment. How

180 FEATHERED GAME

many such there are in our memory ! Away on
the wings of the breeze goes the thought of the
note which falls due next week — gone from
mind for the first time since 'twas given — and
crowding in its wake go a thousand petty vexa-
tions of business. Unfortunate that mortal who
cannot count some of these happy days among
his experiences. It is a lasting gain — this day —
for the pleasure of a shooting trip is not all in
the moment of action ; full often by our winter's
blaze we live again our happy days afield, afloat ;
recall deep craft or sylvan lore displayed ; some
shorebird music deftly played ; headwork by dog
or shooting skill undue recalls the day and so
its joys renew.

In the earlier part of the season the different
bay birds, the beetleheads, the goldens, yellow-
legs, turnstones or curlews are found each in
its chosen grounds. In the marsh is where
your luck may bring you a goodly bag of Yel-
low-legs; in these luxuriant tangles of rank-
growing grass lurk the rails, whose celerity and
swiftness of foot more than atone for any ap-
parent weakness of wing. Here in the colder
weather when the frosts have dulled the bright
greens of the grass, changing them to the yel-

THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 181

lows and reddish browns which betoken that our
summer is gone — here it is that the crafty snipe
will dart and twist with erratic and confusing
flight to dodge the charge with which you fain
would cut him down. At this season, too, it
may chance that in some of these reed-edged
pools the black duck is leading its family, now
full-fledged, keen eyed and already abnormally
sharp in the world's harsh methods. But now
'tis late summer, and through the sultry air
from a distance comes the "Winter's" cry, far
away and faint, the bird itself out of sight. In
answer to the gunner's mimicry comes back
again the note from another quarter. His cir-
cling flight has taken him a mile away, but still,
mellow and musical, his far-reaching whistle,
softened by the distance, is heard in answer to
each luring call, and away in the sky the gun-
ner sees him — a mere speck against the clouds.
If the imitation is good and the bird is in social
mood he comes nearer, calling again and again,
quartering the marsh with his watchful eye
alert for friend or foe. Now the sportsman lies
close, well hidden by the stack of marsh grass —
a perfect match for his hunting coat of dingy,
yellowish brown, — or crouches in the waving

182 FEATHERED GAME

reeds with his decoys placed about the edges of
some convenient " pond-hole." Soon Mr. Yel-
low-legs is seen wheeling about just out of gun-
shot, his long legs stretched out straight behind
him and his head turning from side to side in
search of his answering friend. He sights the
decoys, and now his call is one short, sharp,
questioning note. The deceiver answers just
as he asks, and the bird sweeps down with set
wings, then skimming along ten feet above the
grass, discovers the cheat and starts, too late,
away. A sudden flash from the screening
reeds, and all in a heap, as neck, wings and legs
roll into one shapeless lump, the bird comes to
earth; a convulsive kick, a tremulous flutter of
feeble wings, a gasp, and he lies still upon the
grass, — "another victim of misplaced confi-
dence. ' ' Look at him ! One of the finest shore-
birds which we have on our coasts, either to
shoot or for the table. Perhaps the next will be
a flock of half a dozen, when the gunner may
make his "double" with much satisfaction to
his vanity. Marsh gunning is fair and legiti-
mate sport only when the gunner will do his
shooting at birds on the wing. It certainly de-
generates into "pot-shooting," or worse, when,

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THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 183

as too often happens, the birds are allowed to
settle in among the decoys and feed while the
"sportsman" waits until a number are bunched
along the muddy shore of the pool where a rak-
ing shot with the first barrel shall make sure of
a bagful to display to admirers at home. The
average marsh bird is confiding and trustful in
disposition and so readily induced to give the
shooter a chance that there is really no excuse
for such a custom as this. Let one of the whole
long-legged race come within hearing of a
plover call and the rest of the story lies alto-
gether with the gun artist. Of course now and
then there is a shore bird shooter with loftier
ambitions. Such a one may graduate into the
higher schools of upland gunnery, and for him
these furnish good practice for the making of a
wing shot.

The "Winter Yellow-leg," so called in dis-
tinction from the smaller "Summer," is not a
true plover, nor is the latter, both belonging to
the Tattler family, a group more nearly related
to the snipes. The kinship is plainly indicated
by the bill, long, and somewhat sensitive at the
tip, as in Wilson's snipe, but in the northeast
hardly one gunner in a hundred ever thinks of

184 FEATHERED GAME

these birds as anything but plovers, or would
know what bird was meant if called anything
but a "Winter," or a "Summer, Yellow-leg
Plover, ' ' so general is the use of these names in
New England.

The "Winters" seldom gather into large
flocks of their own kind save in the spring mi-
grations, generally preferring to associate with
other species, as the "Summers," smaller sand-
pipers, grass-birds, etc. They are found most-
ly on the soft, oozy edges of the "pondholes" in
the marshes, along the muddy "flats" of the
tide-waters and in the bog holes of the fresh
water swamps. In the far north, on the bank
of inland pond or marsh, they build their nests
and raise their broods of four or five long-
legged, odd-looking youngsters which run about
almost from birth, following their parents in a
scramble for daily rations, escaping danger by
squatting down in the long grass and keeping
perfectly quiet until the coast is clear.

The ' ' Winter ' ' arrives in New England about
the middle of April and breeds from this lati-
tude northward, most of them going further on.
The nest, though sometimes built on an old
stump, is oftener a slight hollow scooped out of

THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 185

the ground in the drier parts of the marsh and
lined with dead grass and moss, and the male
bird, though he is said to take no part in the
incubation, stays near at hand and aids in the
care of the young. About the middle of Au-
gust they begin to leave their breeding places
and scatter over the surrounding country, lin-
gering in New England into November.

The coloring and habits of the two species are
nearly identical. The principal difference is
that of size, the "Winter" averaging from
twelve to fourteen inches long, with an extent
of about twenty-four inches. The "Summer"
is ten or eleven inches in length, with a wing-
spread averaging twenty-two inches. The bill
of the larger species is somewhat up-curved, as
if slightly bent in the middle, while that of the
"Summer" is proportionately shorter and
straight. The legs of the "Summer" are a lit-
tle longer in comparison with the size of the
bird. The weight of the larger species will run
from eight to nine and one-half or even ten
ounces; the smaller species seldom weighs over
seven ounces, and usually less.

The description of one bird's markings will
answer almost equally well for the other, and

186 FEATHERED GAME

is as follows : above, grayish black, the body of
the feathers dark, with spots and streaks of
white along their margins; head and neck
streaked with black lines on a grayish ground.
Small superciliary stripe of white. Throat
white. Under parts white, streaked with dusky
spots and lines on lower throat, neck and breast.
Sides and flanks barred and having also numer-
ous arrowheads in black. Under tail coverts
also black-barred. Tail marked with black and
white in regular bars, the central feathers
darker and so less distinctly barred. Rump
and upper tail coverts white ; legs bright yellow
and very long. Bill black.

THE "SUMMER YELLOW-LEGS."

(Totanus flavipes.)

The "Summer" is a later arrival in the
spring and leaves earlier for the south than
does the "Winter," flavipes not going so far
north and leaving for warm climates during Au-
gust and September. These, too, are more apt
to gather into large flocks, while their bigger
relatives seldom "bunch up" with more than
five or six in a flock, except, as before stated,

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THE SUMMER YELLOW-LEGS 187

during the spring migrations. This species is
more numerous along the Atlantic coast than
is the preceding, and the early fall finds many
"Summer Yellow-legs" on the muddy flats of
the tide-waters. Fine sport may be had, both
here and in the marshes, for, like the larger
species, these birds come readily to decoys or
to a good imitation of their whistle. If there is
any difference in the willingness of these two
birds to come to decoys I think that the l ' Sum-
mer" is the more neighborly. I believe this
species is much less wary as well as weaker in
flight powers and of less shot-carrying ability.
I must confess that I prefer shooting "Yellow-
legs ' ' of either tribe over ' ' stools ' ' to any other
kind of shore-bird gunning, always, and of
course, excepting the sport of knocking down
Wilson's snipe when there are enough of them
to practice on.

In August, supposing the mosquitoes do not
eat him alive, the marsh gunner is likely to get
more of the smaller ' ' Yellow-legs. ' ' In Septem-
ber the ' ' Winters ' ' will outnumber them two to
one. Both rank well as table birds and are al-
ways in good condition.

For plumage and markings the description of

188 FEATHERED GAME

the "Winter Yellow-legs" will answer equally
well for this bird.

Beyond the Rockies this species does not
seem to be so numerous as the larger Yellow-
legs, though it is said to be fairly common in
Alaska. In their migrations both travel down
to the southernmost point of the American con-
tinent, so that their range, from Cape Horn to
Greenland and Alaska, makes a large extent of
territory.

THE SOLITARY SANDPIPER.

(Helodromas solitarius.)

With most gunners the "Solitary" is an old
acquaintance, well known to all who hunt in the
marshes. Usually he is found where the brooks
and small streams come out from the sheltering
cover of the woods and less often in the open
stretches of waving grass or stubble and pond-
hole which delight the hearts of the other mem-
bers of his family. A quiet woodland nook, a
gently flowing stream with moss-grown rocks
and turfy banks suits well this bird's taste.
Caring little for society, silent and shy in dis-
position, hermit-like, he prefers the retirement

THE SOLITARY SANDPIPER 189

and peace of the meadow brook to the changing
scenes of the wider world of his big cousins,
the "winter" and "summer yellow-legs."
Around some lonely pool in pasture land or
meadow he gleans his fare of insects and larvae
scarcely ever breaking the quiet of his haunt
with a whistle, for he is the silent member of the
family, more taciturn than any of the tribe, and
content with the company of his own thoughts.
This bird is not confined to the marshes of the
coast ; he is fully as likely to be found in the in-
terior, and is a common visitor in almost any
suitable spot on the North American continent.
If you come suddenly into a narrow run-way, its
high protecting banks shutting out the rest of
the world with a thick wall of brush and trees,
and overgrown with long grass, with still and
shallow waters, stagnant and slow, — the chosen
haunt of bittern and heron, — on muddy edge or
slimy stone standing sentinel over all is the
"Solitary." Sometimes his mate is near by or
perhaps his nearly grown family has not yet
left the parental care, and all make off in haste
the instant you have fairly shown yourself.
You note that his flight is much like that of the
spotted sandpiper, his wings down-curved in the

190 FEATHERED GAME

same fashion. Onr hero is more dignified in
his manner, as befits his larger size. The
homes and life habits of the two are probably
very similar.

When you flush him he goes skimming away
just above the water ; alighting on a rock at the
edge, he stretches his wings aloft to their full-
est extent, then carefully folds them so that
each feather is in its proper place, and begins
feeding again, gathering the insects, slugs and
water bugs with the healthy appetite common
to all citizens of the great out-of-doors.

He is a beautiful bird, though modestly ap-
pareled; something smaller than either "win-
ter" or "summer yellow-legs," but built on the
same graceful lines and plainly showing all the
characteristics of his family — long in the legs,
strong of wing, and equally good at the table as
are the other two. I think he makes a good im-
pression when, after being skinned, wrapped in
a thin piece of fat pork and enclosed in a big po-
tato he has been well baked.

Sometimes in the sea marshes when the tide
is rising a number of these birds may be cap-
tured by taking a stand among the pond-holes
near high water mark, of course being well hid-

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THE SOLITARY SANDPIPER 191

den, and shooting them as they come in from
the flooded lower levels. As you arrive you
cast a glance along the mud and ooze, and see-
ing nothing, turn away. Just then a slight
motion catches your eye and what had seemed
a small lump of mud suddenly changes into a
very lively little bird, bobbing and bowing at
you very politely and not more than twenty
yards away. Now he extends his wings up-
ward to their full spread and jets his tail as he
runs nimbly along, then one downward stroke
of his pinions and he rises lightly from the
ground and skims away just above the surface
of the pool. Perhaps he is a young bird or has
been but little disturbed and so knows not the
danger of his situation, in which case he may go
ten yards and alight again to gaze with curi-
ous eyes. There is scarcely another bird which
flies with so little apparent effort. His strokes
are slow and regular, a short sailing between
each motion, but he moves very fast. Let him
be alarmed and he will quicken his speed until
he seems only a black streak in the air, and as
he rises to top the surrounding trees it needs
good and quick work with the gun to stop him.
Start him up suddenly and he dashes from the

192 FEATHERED GAME

ground with a sharp, piercing cry and perhaps
darts into the brush, for if cornered in a run-
way margined with trees he will not hesitate to
dive into their protecting cover where almost
any other marsh bird would double back and
make for the open ground at any risk to itself,
and so give the gunner a chance to score.

Of its nesting habits little is known for cer-
tainty and eggs are still rarely seen in collec-
tions. It is supposed to breed anywhere in its
range, preferably throughout the northern por-
tions, that is, from the northernmost States of
the Union through the wooded country to
Alaska. In winter it goes far away to the
south, and though some remain in the Gulf
States most pass this season in Mexico and Cen-
tral America. Not a few go well down into
South America.

This species is about nine inches long, with
an extent of wings averaging from sixteen to
seventeen inches. Upper parts a glossy green-
ish brown, streaked on head, throat and neck
with dusky; showing considerable white here
also, especially on the sides of the head and
throat. Upper tail coverts and rump same
shade as the back, but showing some white,

THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER 193

black-barred, on the lateral tail coverts. Sides,
axillars and linings of the wings white, regu-
larly barred with black. Tail barred with black
and white, the black predominant on the cen-
tral, where crossbars are less pronounced, and
the white most prominent on the outer feathers.
Primaries and edge of wings blackish; rest of
wing mainly like back. Bill nearly black; legs
not so long proportionately as in the "yellow-
legs," in color dusky green.

THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER.

(Actitis macularia.)

Common all over North America wherever
there is water and about as well known a bird as
we have on our lists is the Spotted Sandpiper.
If in the early spring one should visit the rocky
expanses of sea beach, some unfrequented spot
on the shore of our islands, or the quiet glades
where the brooks and the tide waters meet and
mingle their currents, almost the first sound to
greet one's ears would be the sharp and pierc-
ing "Peet-Weet!" of this tiny but loud-voiced
little bird as with his mate he scurries away.
With wings deeply down-curved he dashes in

194 FEATHERED GAME

his darting flight to a safe distance, alighting on
some large stone, flirting his tail, balancing on
tip-toe and bobbing his head, never for a second
standing still or ceasing his endless dance.

He is a brilliant conversationalist, (a trait
common to most of his family), and is ready
and willing to prove it, evidently feeling that he
must make amends for his small size by being
the noisiest member of his tribe. If suddenly
driven to flight he makes the air resound with
his sharp ' ' Peet-Weet ! "— " Peet-Weet ! " and
when he has alighted again he quavers out a
long, tremulous "W-e-e-e-e-t!"

The Spotted Sandpiper arrives in New Eng-
land from his winter quarters in the Southern
States, Mexico, or the Tropics, in May and sets
up housekeeping soon after. He seems more
accustomed to civilization than any other of
the shorebirds and fears less the neighborhood
of man. Probably the reason lies in the fact
that the gunner seldom troubles him because
of his small size and also because, since they do
not gather into flocks as do the other sandpip-
ers and smaller shorebirds, he can get but one
at a shot, thus he thinks it a small return for
his outlay of ammunition. With this freedom

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THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER 195

from pursuit and the semi-protection thus af-
forded, they often nest near the farmhouse, in
the orchards, and near the highways where no
other of their kind would ever think of making
its home. Their nests are made in almost any
spot near water, be it sea, lake, pond or moun-
tain brook, and a very simple affair is this hum-
ble home — a mere hollow on the ground lined
with soft dead grass. This usually contains
four eggs of a dull clay color, splashed with ir-
regular dark spots. If the bird is flushed from
the nest she commonly flies off in silence, mak-
ing no show of annoyance, in marked contrast
to her usual noisy mood, and if surprised with
her young family plays all the tricks and wiles
known to other birds and used in a like situa-
tion.

Strolling one August day on the banks of a
creek much frequented by these birds I came
upon a Spotted Piper which seemed greatly dis-
tressed at my presence. The cause was not far
to seek. Out on a point of mud at the water's
edge was another piper of much lighter color
than usual and I proceeded to make its ac-
quaintance. On approaching there was no diffi-
culty in discovering what it was — an unfledged

196 FEATHERED GAME

youngster with his wing quills still in their blue
sheaths and never a sign of feathers. Pres-
ently it scuttled away and hid in a thick clump
of grass. After a short search the frightened
little skulker was brought out from his retreat.
A little gray and white mass of down — as
''gawky" a bunch of infantile innocence as I
have ever seen. Its bill, legs and feet nearly
as large as the old bird's, the head almost too
much for the feeble neck to sustain. Making as
yet no attempt at flight, it ran with wings out-
spread and carried just as the old bird carried
hers, down-curved and drooping, so long even
at this age that the little adventurer often
stepped on them, making him perform various
unexpected acrobatic feats.

During the time I kept the youngster pris-
oner the old bird shrieked and whistled and
tumbled about, dragging first one wing and then
the other in her attempts to draw my attention
to herself, coming almost within hand reach and
then darting into the air, screeching abuse, de-
fiance, appeal, — the little fellow answering all
the time with a feeble, chicken-like " peeping."

"When at length I let my captive go free he

THE SPOTTED SANDPIPER 197

made at once for the stream, here all of thirty
yards wide and with a swift current. In he
plunged and struggled gamely for the other
side, but his feeble efforts were soon exhausted
in the swirl and he was swept into a brush heap
and dragged under. I rescued him and held
him in my hands until rested and warmed — for
there was a chill east wind coming in from the
sea — then finding a sheltered spot in the sun I
left him alone. Here he stayed contentedly un-
til, when I had gone to a safe distance, the
mother bird came back and after scolding him
well finally led him away through the grass.

This little chap was brownish gray above,
with a black stripe from the base of the bill
over the crown to the nape, there meeting two
others which came to this point from the eyes.
Another dark stripe, somewhat larger, came
down through the middle of the back to the root
of the tail. Everywhere below grayish white.
The wings quite long and pointed, drooping as
if there were no strength in them yet, and all
made up of blue feather casings.

At this time the "yellow-legs" of both species
had begun their journeyings, and even while

198 FEATHERED GAME

our little drama had been taking place a bunch
of eight "summers" had come in and settled at
about thirty yards distance to look on.

The bird is known by a number of names,
most of them derived from his habit of "bob-
bing" and balancing up and down. Among
these are "Tip-up," "Teeter-Tail," "Teeter-
Bob," and "Peet-Weet," this last from his note
of alarm. The "Teeter-Bob" is a merry, rest-
less little fellow, never for a moment quiet. He
is about seven and one half inches long and
thirteen inches in extent of wing. Above, dull
olive brown with a silken sheen and lustre to
his plumage; fine lines of black on head and
neck; wavy crossbars of the same color on the
back and wing coverts ; upper tail coverts and
central feathers of the tail of the same olive
brown hue; tail feathers tipped with white, the
outer ones having several incomplete barrings
of this color. Under parts all white with nu-
merous black polka dots plentifully sprinkled in
on throat, breast and flanks, the spots growing
fewer and paler toward the lower parts. These
spots are missing in the fall dress. Wing
quills brownish black; bill flesh-colored, black-
tipped.

D

THE RUFF 199

A wounded bird of this sort will often strike
out to swim for safety, and though making no
great progress when depending only on its little
feet for paddles, it can make a great rate of
speed below the surface where with half-spread
wings it flies beneath the water.

THE RUFF. (Male.) THE REEVE. (Fe-
male.)

(Pavoncella pugnax.)

This curious bird is a very rare straggler
from the Old World, where it makes its home
throughout the northern hemisphere. A large
proportion of the specimens of this species
which have been taken on the North American
continent have been found on the coast of New
England. As the name would indicate these
are fighters ; that is, they make great pretences
of fighting, but their quarrels seldom result in
any serious damage to either combatant. If
they had a business manager and a newspaper
puffer in their train we might easily find their
human imitator.

The male in spring plumage is marked above
with chestnut, brown and black; rump blackish,

200 FEATHERED GAME

but lighter and somewhat reddish at the side.
Below, white; breast, sides and crissum black
with white spottings. Tail brown with chestnut
and white barrings. Quills dusky, with white
shafts. Wing coverts dusky gray. Bill black,
yellowish at base. Legs dull yellow. The face
bare of feathers and covered with small, yel-
low, wart-like growths. The long neck feath-
ers are almost never alike in their coloring
on any two specimens — in fact, there is a wide
variation in the color arrangement all through.
The "ruff" is an adornment for the spring
love-making, only worn by the males, and may
be of any color or combination of colors be-
tween pure white and jet black. The length of
this species from twelve to thirteen inches; ex-
tent from twenty-two to twenty-three inches.

The female is quite a little smaller and not
such a striking bird. She lacks the "ruff," as
before stated, also the peculiar growths on the
face, and looks much like the "grassbird,"
though considerably larger.

THE UPLAND PLOVEE 201

THE UPLAND PLOVER.

GRASS PLOVER. PRAIRIE PIGEON.

BARTRAM'S SANDPIPER.

(Bartramia longicauda.)

This beautiful bird dwells on our continent
in almost every part east of the Rockies, is oc-
casionally seen in Europe, and has been re-
ported from Australia. It breeds from the
Middle States of the Union northward to the
Yukon and spends the winter in the Southern
States, Central and South America, starting for
these winter quarters generally during the lat-
ter part of September.

As is the case with most of the migrant wad-
ers, we, of New England, see a very small part
of this vast army of winged pilgrims, the bulk
of the flights passing over the western coun-
try, where this species is especially abundant,
traveling in flocks of thousands during the sea-
sons of migration. When the law's protect-
ing shield is taken away the market gunners kill
great numbers of these birds every year, for
the Uplands on the western prairies become ex-
tremely tame, almost beyond the belief of the

202 FEATHERED GAME

eastern gunner. But it is only in the sparsely
settled portions of New England — in the com-
paratively few stretches of open country, —
large hayfields or pastures — that the Upland
dwells and raises his family. From the nature
of our section it is only to be expected that
fewer of this species are found here than in the
West, where every condition is favorable and
all things are as though especially planned for
their comfort and happiness.

Here in New England they begin to nest dur-
ing the latter part of May. At this season the
male is very attentive to his mate, seldom leav-
ing her for any length of time, and even then,
model husband that he is, he does not stray far
from home. The nest is a flimsy affair of dry
grass lining a shallow hollow in the ground.
The eggs, generally four in number, are clay-
colored and speckled over with brownish spots.

All through the warm days of spring and
early summer the Upland enjoys perfect peace
and security. The meadow grass and daisies
grow tall and stout around the nest, shading
and sheltering the little home so snugly hidden
away from all disturbers. When the little ones
have struck out for themselves the fat and lazy

THE UPLAND PLOVER 203

insects are buzzing and flying sleepily in the
fields, the grasshoppers and crickets are ''too
lazy to get out of their own way," the straw-
berries are plenty and sweet, and until now all
things have been just as the bird would have
had them. By the time the farmer is ready to
cut the ripened hay the little, long-legged grass-
hopper killers are large enough to look out for
themselves and strong enough for a long flight
if it is necessary. So the haying time is the
first hint they have that all the world is not hap-
piness and peace, and oftentimes, until bitter
experience has shown them the need of caution
they will hardly get out of the way of the men
at work in the fields. I have watched a young
Upland for two hours at a stretch, walking it
up from the grass and calling it back by an imi-
tation of its note. Rarely would it go a hun-
dred yards away and every whistling call was
quickly answered. I stood in plain sight, but
the bird would curl and wheel about my head,
at times almost within hand reach, then drop-
ping to the ground within twenty paces dis-
tance, would run through the grass to get a
nearer view of the visitor, peeping from behind
a thick growing clump, then running to another,

204 FEATHERED GAME

often coming within ten feet of me and all the
time conversing in its own tongue with soft,
twittering notes. What a graceful creature it
was, and how daintily it stepped! This was
just before the haying season. In two weeks'
time I went again to the same place and could
not get within a hundred yards of any bird.
It takes but little to teach them caution. Soon
they will fly at the first sight of man; and no
wonder, for once the hay is gathered in, all is
ready to hunt and harry them from their favor-
ite fields. The farmers' boys have usually had
about two weeks of fun with the Uplands when
the shooting season commences here (Maine),
on August first, and as they are the first game
birds to come into season they are greatly ap-
preciated and eagerly hunted the instant the
law is off. During this month they are found
in the lately-mown hayfields, where hunting Up-
lands in the glare of August's sun with never a
tree for shelter is rather warm work. Early in
the morning, some time before daylight, they
may be heard as they wheel about in the black-
ness overhead, all the time sending down their
gurgling call. Long before the first streak of
light has shot across the sky they are busily en-

THE UPLAND PLOVER 205

gaged in breakfasting on the insects, now
chilled with cold, dull and stupid in the dew-
laden grass. Then is the time to be upon the
grounds and beat up the fields, for, like most
wild creatures, they may be more readily ap-
proached in the early morning and about sun-
down than at other times of the day.

The most popular way of hunting these birds
hereabout is to make up a large party in order
to more thoroughly cover the fields and grassy
flats which they inhabit, as in this way more
birds will be found. The larger the force the
better, for, as a friend who had a just appreci-
ation of my abilities with the scatter gun once
said in inviting me to attend such an excursion,
"You'd better come, — you know those that
can't shoot can scare 'em up for the others."

As a sport for a lazy man gunning Uplands
can hardly be considered a glittering success.
It means much hard work with a large element
of uncertainty as to results. The sportsman
must be willing to keep trying all the time if
he would make a creditable showing, and so he
plods across the fields under the glare of the
sun and wonders where the birds may be. He
drives clouds of insects up from beneath his

206 FEATHERED GAME

feet — grasshoppers in blundering flight butt
their heads against him as though they thought
to put him to rout with their headlong charge, —
bumblebees cross his path with droning note,
and swallows career about him, making a feast
off the tiny myriads which his march disturbs.
Eight and left go scurrying brown sparrows,
and other small fowl rise unexpectedly from the
stubble. Flocks of rusty-looking bobolinks,
scarcely to be known as the gay birds of two
months ago, dash out from the oat patch with
chirping discontent, and over all the breath of
summer and perchance the air like a furnace.

Suddenly another note, a gurgling, rippling,
bubbling whistle, cuts short the gunner's day
dream, and as it sounds a second time he comes
out from his sleepy state with a sudden start.
It was that for which he has listened. Look
where he may — right or left, above, ahead, be-
hind, he sees no bird, but still the flute-like note
is heard, and at last, a hundred yards away, his
eye catches the flicker of sunlight on a pair of
brown wings just as they are folded from their
flight. That soft and mellow whistle has some
peculiar quality, which, when it comes dropping

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THE UPLAND PLOVER 207

down from the summer sky, makes it the most
difficult of all sounds to accurately locate.

Xow the sportsman's troubles commence, for
that one bird if it pleases (as it usually does)
can furnish him a whole day's "sport" by
tantalizingly keeping just out of range. As the
name indicates, they dwell mostly in the open
hayfields, moving on rapid feet through the
grass in pursuit of the insects which make their
principal food. In such places as these any
near approach to them is most difficult, as the
Upland, after his domestic duties are done and
his family is brought up, is a very shy and wary
bird, commonly springing up and away before
the gunner can get within shot reach, whistling
merrily his rolling, liquid note as he goes.

Slender and graceful, long of limb, one of the
swiftest fliers of a fleet-winged family, the Up-
land has been unusually favored among our
dwellers of the wilderness, and comparatively
few of them fall a prey to the gunner. He can
run fast — faster than any man — and will give
a dog a good race. It is laughable to see a gun-
ner lose his breath and temper in trying to
catch a wounded bird.

208 FEATHERED GAME

The Upland's call is somewhat similar to the
"winter's," equally clear and musical and
rather more mellow in tone. Not so pow-
erful as the whistle of the "yellow-legs," nor
so long extended, it is in most cases three clear,
quickly-sounded notes, which are heard much
farther than would at first be thought. They
have also, a low, twittering note in conversation
among themselves, — a sound like gurgling wa-
ter, but not sufficiently like it to cure your Au-
gust thirst contracted in pursuit of them. When
a flock is disturbed in their home fields, the scat-
tered members keep up a continual chorus of
this music from one bunch to another as they
wheel about in search of safe grounds to rest
upon. Seen on the wing when moving care-
lessly about in the mere enjoyment of flight,
traveling from knoll to knoll and not alarmed,
they will remind the observer of some of the
smaller hawks from their swift, sharp strokes
alternating with an easy, sailing flight. The
gunner will notice, however, this difference
from the sailing of the hawks — that, in shore-
bird fashion, they carry their wings deeply
down-curved.

There is little profit in trying to call them.

THE UPLAND PLOVER 209

They pay scant attention to any such attempts
at scraping an acquaintance, and though they
may answer, will continue upon their way with-
out any effort at sociability. Sometimes to get
a fair shot advantage may be taken of the cat-
tle if they are grazing in the fields, as the Up-
lands for a long time familiar with and so hav-
ing no fear of these quiet neighbors, suspect no
danger from their close approach. The gun-
ner may urge the grazing cow gently toward
the birds, keeping himself well hidden behind
her until near enough. It is needless to say
that the same trustful animal will not consent to
be for a second time a movable blind for the
gunner, for until the shock to her nervous sys-
tem has passed off she is likely to be as wary as
the birds themselves, trotting off at once and
shaking her horns in a decided negative at any
attempt to renew the acquaintance.

A barren, rocky pasture, fit only for the sheep
to graze in, and whose sandy soil is overgrown
with a crunching carpet of dry moss and lich-
ens is often a very good ground for Uplands
and they may be seen scurrying about in squads
of half-a-dozen or more, running races for some
particularly fat cricket or grasshopper. But

210 FEATHERED GAME

think not to approach them here, — if you can
see them how much more do 3Tou yourself loom
up? At the first attempt to get within range
away goes every bird in sight with a loud chorus
of whistling derision, flying a hundred yards,
alighting to run as much farther and then be-
ginning to feed with watchful eye upon the
stranger, each ready to leave in an instant.

A western friend tells me of the method of
hunting Uplands in his country, on the prairies :
a comfortable way of gunning in hot weather.
Two or three men drive in a wagon over the
grass ground to approach the birds, which will
generally allow a team to come quite near.
When the birds begin to show signs of uneasi-
ness the sportsmen jump out and blaze away.
Our westerner thought that it might be a good
plan of campaign for New England, but one trip
was enough to change his mind. The rugged
nature of our county and the prospect of lifting
the outfit over a stone wall or picking the horse
off a barbed wire fence every few minutes some-
what upset his theories before the day was over.

I wish to note a circumstance which to me
seems quite unusual: on one plover excursion
my companion and I saw an Upland rise from

THE UPLAND PLOVER 211

the grass and without being shot at or in any
way disturbed, alight in the top of a tall maple
tree, fully fifty feet from the ground, and stand
balancing and swaying on the topmost branch
as easily as any robin might have done, staying
there until at our getting within gunshot it flew
away, — and continued flying despite our best
efforts at stopping it. We have not found any
of our shooting acquaintances who have seen
the like, although the Upland makes a regular
practice of perching upon fences and low
stumps, and one bird, after leading me a long,
hot chase through field and pasture, finally ag-
gravated his offense by alighting on a woodpile
in a farmer 's dooryard, well out of reach of my
gun, but not fifty feet from where the propri-
etor was "hitching up" his team. That bird is
still enjoying good health for all that I know to
the contrary. About the last of August the
scattered families unite in one large flock and
depart for the nearest marsh, remaining in its
drier levels until near the middle of Septem-
ber, when they leave for the south, where they
pass the winter in our Southern States, par-
ticularly on the grassy plains of Texas and New
Mexico. Here during the cold weather there

212 FEATHERED GAME

are countless numbers of them. Many go far-
ther on to the cattle ranges of Mexico, and some
go far down into South America, even to the
pampas of Argentina, leaving for their north-
ern summer homes about the end of March.

There may be two minds as to the palate-
pleasing qualities of many a duck, quail, or
even grouse, for all these have some peculi-
arities which do not appeal to the uneducated
palate, but the man who can not appreciate the
tender flesh and delicate flavor of the Upland
Plover must be hard indeed to suit. To my
mind the Upland ranks equal to any game bird
of America as a table delicacy. They get sur-
prisingly fat in the fall, sometimes even to
splitting their skins upon striking the ground
when brought down by the gunner.

Above, the Upland is mostly of dusky hue,
with a greenish, satiny sheen to the feathers,
mottled with tawny and whitish yellow, the
light colors mostly on the edges and tips of
the feathers ; the top of the head and back dark-
est and the yellow tones predominant on neck,
breast and wings. The rump dull blackish, this
color carried down over the central feathers of
the tail, with these barred as are the other

THE UPLAND PLOVER 213

feathers; but the outer ones are much lighter,
shading from the dark central feathers through
ever-lightening tones of orange-brown to
creamy white on the outer pair, all showing
subterminal black bars and white tips. Scap-
ulars and inner secondaries are regularly
barred with black on a dusky ground. Chin
white, shading into the yellowish brown of the
forebreast and neck, and these parts streaked
with fine dusky lines on the sides, growing
larger and heavier on the throat and taking the
shape of arrowheads on the breast. Axillars
and linings of the wings pure white, very even-
ly barred with black ; for the rest of the under
parts yellowish white. Primaries brownish
black, the first white-shafted and brokenly
barred with white on inner webs. Barrings
often show on other primaries, though generally
obscured. Bill yellow, black-tipped. Feet dull
yellow; iris dark brown. Length from eleven
to thirteen inches; extent from twenty-two to
twenty-four inches. Sexes marked alike.

214 FEATHERED GAME

BUFF-BREASTED SANDPIPER.

(Tryngites subruficollis.)

Not a common bird in New England, but of
more common occurrence in the interior of the
continent. The whole of North America is the
habitat of this species. It breeds throughout
the Arctic regions and migrates for the winter
months even as far as South America. Has
been taken frequently in Europe.

The Buffbreast bears a close resemblance to
the upland plover in coloring, and to some ex-
tent in form, though the tones of its plumage
are lighter and the bird is considerably smaller.
On two occasions I have had gunners bring me
what they thought to be young or small uplands
which turned out to be BufT-Breasted Pipers.

The habits and food of this and the last spe-
cies are nearly the same and their choice of
homes is much alike, with the difference that
this bird is fonder of the muddy edges of "pond-
holes" and a snail diet than is the upland
plover.

For its markings, as follows: above dark
brown or blackish, with broad brownish yellow

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THE SICKLE-BILLED CURLEW 215

edges to the feathers. Primaries and second-
aries dusky brown, darkening at the ends and
white-tipped. Webs of secondaries and inner
webs of primaries grayish white, speckled and
blotched with black — a marking which locates
this bird at once. Axillars and linings of wings
whitish or pale reddish. Iris brown ; bill black ;
legs greenish. Tail feathers shading like the
upland's from dark brown, almost greenish, on
the central to light brownish yellow on the outer
ones, these tipped with white and with a sub-
terminal bar of black. Central tail feathers
slightly longer than the others. Male and fe-
male marked alike. Length from seven and
one-half to eight inches; extent varying from
fifteen to sixteen inches.

THE SICKLE-BILLED CURLEW.

(Numenius longirostris.)

The Sickle-billed Curlew is of great size ; the
largest of the game waders. It is a long time
since one has been taken in northern New Eng-
land, and while more are captured in the south-
ern portions, even there it is not numerous. The
few that have been procured have nearly all

216 FEATHERED GAME

been killed on Cape Cod during the fall flights
where, when the birds are moving, decoys and
skillful use of a plover whistle are more pro-
ductive of good results than elsewhere in our
section. All the curlews decoy readily and are
loth to leave a wounded friend, so that a gun-
ner may get several shots into a flock if he has
downed a bird or two with his first barrel.

This species is a lover of warm weather, sel-
dom going north beyond the temperate zone,
and breeding in almost any part of its habitat.
During the winter months they are quite abund-
ant on the plains of Mexico and Texas and all
along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico to Cen-
tral America. They are quite common through-
out our southwestern States and on the sand-
bars along the coasts of our South Atlantic
States during the breeding season. The clutch
of eggs numbers three or four, dingy gray, and
nearly, if not quite, as large as hens' eggs.

The bill is often of great length, though vary-
ing much in specimens according to the age and
development of the bird, running from four to
eight inches. This is mainly black, though
much of the under mandible is yellowish. In
adult birds the bill is considerably down-curved
at the tip.

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THE SICKLE-BILLED CURLEW 217

The male and female are marked alike. Top
of the head indistinctly streaked with black,
reddish and whitish; same colors on hind neck
and here more distinct. Above, brownish black,
spotted with tawny yellow and reddish brown
scalloped on the edges of the feathers ; wing co-
verts with reddish tones predominant. Pri-
maries dusky, mottled with red-brown. Sec-
ondaries and tail feathers reddish brown with
regular barrings of black. Below, light reddish
brown, darkest on breast and under wing cov-
erts, paler on the throat, in fact, here nearly
white. Lower throat and breast streaked with
blackish, the markings growing larger and
darker on the sides of breast and body, in these
places becoming well defined arrow heads and
bars of black. Lining of wings and crissum un-
spotted. Legs grayish brown; the toes short
and stout, flattened beneath, and widely mar-
gined on the edges. Length very variable;
from twenty-four inches upward, according to
the age of the bird and consequent development
of the bill. Extent from thirty-eight to forty
inches.

The Sickle-bill is a fine bird, in quality ot flesh
equal to any of the smaller waders and superior
to most, ranking high as a table delicacy.

218 FEATHERED GAME

When dwelling on the coast its food is mostly of
crabs of the smaller sorts, sea snails and " wrig-
glers ' ' of various kinds, but in the inland coun-
try its table is furnished with grass-hoppers
and berries and the same menu which is set be-
fore the " upland plover" in the same places.
They often make long trips for delicacies of this
sort when dwelling on the coast, and the low,
berry-covered heaths lining the shores furnish
great attractions to migrant flocks.

HUDSONIAN CURLEW. "JACK CUR-
LEW."

(Numenius hudsonicus.)

Of the two species which we may call common
to New England this is the one more rarely
taken within our borders. In the main it is
found here during the season of the fall migra-
tions, when it inhabits either the outer sea
islands, the sandy ocean beaches or the sea
marshes, but most of all the uninhabited grassy
islands well offshore. It is one of the wariest
of the waders, shy and difficult of approach,
though sometimes giving good sport over de-

HUDSONIAN CURLEW 219

coys if the sportsman is well concealed. Like
the last species, on the marshes and inland it
is fond of berries and small fruits, but on the
seacoast subsists mostly on snails and marine
creatures.

This bird is considerably smaller than the
1 ' sickle-bill ' ' and is not so brightly colored. He
is from fifteen to seventeen inches long and has
a sail spread of about thirty-three inches. The
top of the head is dusky brown with a white
stripe through the centre and along each side.
A dark strip from the bill through the eye to
the ear coverts. Above, dusky browns and
blacks, mottled with whitish and dull yellow, the
dark shades making the body color. Tail gray-
ish brown with indistinct black bars. Primaries
dusky brown with lighter mottlings. Linings
of the wings pale red-brown with dusky bar-
rings,— markings which will serve to distinguish
this from young and undeveloped specimens of
the Sickle-bill. Under parts grayish white.
Lower throat and upper breast with dusky
streaks, these becoming arrowheads or broken
barrings on breast and flanks. Legs and feet
blackish; bill blackish, flesh-colored at base,

220 FEATHERED GAME

stout, curving, from three to four inches long.'
The length of the bill varies greatly in different
specimens.

This species is not so numerous as either of
the other two, but it is an occasional visitor in
every part of our continent, dwelling in the
north during the summer months and in winter
migrating with other travelers of the air far into
the south, to Central and South America.

ESQUIMAUX CURLEW. "DOUGH
BIRD."

(Numenius borealis.)

The smallest and most numerous of our cur-
lews. This species is marked very nearly like
the Hudsonian, but in ruddier tones. The bill
is considerably shorter than in the last species
— from two and one-half to three inches long.
In length this bird is from twelve to fourteen
inches, in extent from twenty-seven to twenty-
nine. The colors, both light and dark, are more
decided than in hudsonicus. Probably none of
these birds breed in our borders, but go to the
Arctic portions of the continent, wandering in
the fall all through the United States. In all

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ESQUIMAUX CURLEW 221

this territory, surely in the northern half, this
is the most numerous species of curlew. In the
cold weather it joins the rest of its family iu
the warm climates, sometimes going down into
the pampas of Argentina for winter quarters.

It nests on the plains of the interior, the
number of eggs commonly four, greenish gray
in color, with mottlings of varying hue, though
in most cases brown.

Inland it lives much like and is often found
with the upland plover and the golden plover in
their prairie ranges, but to the New England
gunner it is only a chance acquaintance met on
the sea ledges, the marshes alongshore and on
the outer islands. They are fairly regulai
summer visitors, both this species and the Hud-
sonian curlew, to those grassy solitudes, de-
serted islands far off shore, where sea fowl and
shore birds are seldom disturbed by any crea-
ture more dangerous than the sheep which are
pastured there.

Though quite wary they will decoy well if the
sportsman is hidden and can imitate their call
passably. The flesh of this and all other mem-
bers of the family is of good flavor and is in
good condition at all seasons of the year. The

222 FEATHERED GAME

curlews, when able to procure such food, are
very fond of berries and will travel long dis-
tances to obtain them. In the fall months they
are surprisingly fat after this diet.

They arrive in New England, northward
bound, in April or the first of May, but do not
tarry on their journey, rarely stopping more
than a day or two for food and rest. Their
southern migration is performed more leisure-
ly, the birds arriving during the first half of
August, even the middle of July at times, and
lingering on through their "vacation time" well
into September.

The curlews are very popular with the shore
gunner and always welcome in his game bag.
The sportsmen of this section still speak im-
pressively of the great flight of these birds
which landed upon our coast some twenty years
ago. They haunted the high lands, the hay
fields, and the "upland" country generally, —
a matter of great surprise to the most of our
baymen, who had been accustomed to find them
mainly in the marshes and thought these places
their only legitimate grounds. They were mov-
ing southward leisurely, only going a few miles
each day, so that they stayed nearly a week

THE KING RAIL 223

with us and the slayer of plover and baybirds
had a treat of which they still speak longingly.
There were literally thousands of them. Every
field of ordinary size had its flock or its gunner
lurking in the shadow of a rock or hidden in a
clump of weeds with a bunch of decoys before
him, intent on breaking all former records of
slaughter. The thoughts of the juicy "feeds"
of those days make my mouth water yet.

THE KING RAIL.

(Rallus elegans.)

Just what percentage of the population of
our marshes is made up of the rail family it is
difficult to say, but it is surely a large propor-
tion. They are constantly changing residence
and there is a large "floating population" hav-
ing no fixed abode. Often rails are numerous
in localities where their human neighbors never
suspect their presence. I once showed the con-
tents of my game bag to a man who lived on
the edge of my favorite marsh; in it were a
number of rails and he was curious to know
what they were, saying that he had lived there
all his life (where I had shot hundreds of them)

224 FEATHERED GAME

"without ever having seen one before. He
readily named the different shorebirds which
were taken in the same place.

The rails are a numerous family and one of
wide dispersion, there being at the proper sea-
son some representative in every habitable
quarter of the globe. The characteristics of the
different members of the family are everywhere
the same ; the bodies, thin and compressed, mak-
ing up for a lack of "beam" by a much greater
depth than usual; the legs long and very mus-
cular, with large feet and long toes to assist in
their traveling easily over the floating grasses
and drift stuff so plentiful in their favorite
haunts. Their wings are short and rounded,
and have nothing like the sail area of the
"bay snipe." From this fact their flight is
widely different from the free, bold and power-
ful action of the plover-snipe group. Indeed it
is such an effort for the Rail to lift his heavy
body, long legs and plebeian feet clear of the
ground that every member of the tribe has an
inborn dislike of flying, and so, if pursued, he
runs, skulks among the grass stems, crawls into
the drain holes and the half-subterranean pas-
sages made by the muskrat and mink, and only

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THE KING RAIL 225

when at the last resort does he rise with
clumsy haste, his big feet dangling gracefully
below him, and flap heavily away, coming to the
ground again as soon as ever he can with safety
to seek a surer refuge in the grass. Yet in
spite of all this they must be capable of a long-
sustained flight, for they often cross large
bodies of water in their migrations.

But whatever the case with their wings there
is never a suspicion of feebleness in their long,
muscular legs, and it is to these members that
they trust mostly for escape from danger.
They swim well at need, when their long-toed
feet are very serviceable as paddles. Under
water their wings are called to the aid of their
feet and they make rapid progress, only coming
up where they may put their heads out through
the drift stuff in safety.

The King Rail, the largest and handsomest
of the family in North America, is a near rela-
tion of the clapper rail which is perhaps bet-
ter known, but the King Rail is dressed more
stylishly and in brighter colors. This bird
seems to prefer the fresh water, only rarely be-
ing taken on the marshes of the seacoast. He
is said to be even more of a stranger to New

226 FEATHERED GAME

England than is the clapper rail. There are
perhaps half a dozen authentic records of its
capture in the State of Maine during a period of
eighteen years, one of these falling to the
writer's credit on the 19th of September, 1895.
So far as is known but three other specimens
have been taken, two of these from the Dyke
Marsh in Falmouth, (from which place came
my own specimen) since the record of the first
specimen, taken on Scarborough Marsh, Octo-
ber 8, 1881, by Mr. A. G. Rogers. I have never
known of the capture of a clapper rail in the
same neighborhood or anywhere near, although
our marshes are all of the sea and the clapper
rail is supposed to prefer such places to the
swamps of the fresh water ; moreover, the clap-
per is said to be a more common species than
the King Rail in all parts of the Atlantic coast
line. In the southern part of New England the
King Rail is more common than with us.

This bird is almost an exact counterpart of
the Virginia Rail, so familiar to all marsh gun-
ners, but made up into a larger package. His
length varies from seventeen to nineteen inches ;
extent from twenty-three to twenty-five inches.
As may be seen this is the largest of our rails

THE CLAPPER EAIL 227

as well as the most beautifully colored. Upper
parts varying from olive-brown to black — the
edges of the feathers the lighter and the blacks
on their centres. The scapulars and many of
the back feathers widely margined with grayish
green. Wings and tail greenish brown. Wing
coverts quite pronounced reddish-brown. Neck
and breast reddish-brown, paling on throat and
chin nearly to white. Flanks barred in black
and white sharply defined.

Like the rest of his race he passes the winter
in the south — (some few may remain in south-
ern New England) — and his habits and mode of
life are the same as those of the rest of his big-
footed family. He prefers the unapproachable
and impenetrable stretches of the marsh, and
among the flags and cat-tails where he dwells
he may laugh at pursuit except on the highest
water. He is a feeder on both vegetable and
animal matter and his flesh is only fair for the
table.

THE CLAPPER RAIL.

(Rallus crepitans.)

A bird of uncommon occurrence, seldom cap-
tured by the New England gunner. In its

228 FEATHERED GAME

form and habits much like the familiar Virginia
rail, and similarly marked, though its general
coloration is grayish or yellowish-brown. Its
plumage with its blending colors lacks the
bright tones of reds and browns sharply con-
trasted with the blacks as they appear in the
Virginia.

In the breeding season these birds are very
noisy and keep up a continual clatter, whence
their name. A dweller in the marshes, mainly
those of the seacoast, he is found all along the
Atlantic seaboard of the United States, as far
north as New England during the breeding sea-
son, and spending the winter months in the
Southern States and even farther toward the
tropics. This species is far more abundant in
its southern range than elsewhere.

Their nesting habits are much as in the other
species ; a little above the high tide level a sort
of platform of reeds and dry grasses matted to-
gether just out of the water constitutes the nest.
This contains anywhere from six to ten eggs,
in color creamy white, freckled with red-brown
spots.

The adult bird is of brownish-olive hue above,
with dusky streaks through the centres of the

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THE VIRGINIA RAIL 229

feathers, these colors fading to a grayish tinge
on the edges. Everywhere the colors are dull
and uncertain, shading and blending gradually
one into the other. Below, a pale yellowish
brown, growing grayish on the throat. Flanks,
axillars and linings of the wings dusky gray
with small narrow bars of white. The whole
tone of the bird is ashy gray. Wing quills and
tail dark brown; eyelid and a small line over
the eye white. Legs and feet dull greenish.
Length from fourteen to sixteen inches; extent
about twenty inches ; female a little less. Being
more of an animal feeder than is the sora its
flavor is hardly as good as that of the more
common bird, though by no means to be de-
spised.

THE VIRGINIA RAIL.

(Rallus virginianus.)

Inhabiting the same territory as the sora, or
Carolina rail, — though preferring those spots
where the fresh water springs bubble up
through the mucky ooze of the marsh, — is the
next most numerous species, the Virginia Rail.
This is a very showy bird, somewhat larger and
more brilliantly colored than the sora, and fur-

230 FEATHERED GAME

nislied with a long, stout, curved bill with which
to procure his food, — insects, snails, and the
like — for he is principally an animal feeder.
On this account his flesh is scarcely as good as
that of the sora.

The Virginia Rail's nesting habits are the
same as the other members of the family, with
a larger complement of eggs, there being from
seven to ten in a setting, dirty white in color,
and splashed with purplish spots. The Vir-
ginia may sometimes raise two broods in a sea-
son, but probably not often in New England.

This bird is marked as follows: above,
streaked with dark brown and brownish olive,
the wing coverts a deep red brown ; top of head
and back of neck dark brown; below a rich
red brown, brightest on the breast and fading
out toward throat and belly; flanks and insides
of wings blackish, barred with white. The
length of this species ten inches, extent four-
teen. Bill about one and three-quarters inches
long. Female smaller than the male and lighter
colored.

A past master in the art of skulking, no water
rat can pass through tangled grass and cat-tails
as rapidly as he, when running with his head

THE SORA RAIL 231

low and wings pressed to his sides, he forces
his thin body in its rapid course, doubling back
and forth in devious ways to the despair of all
dogs. A few trips after rails would spoil the
best bird dog that ever lived. Such a thing as
''laying to a dog" does not appear in any of
their codes.

THE SORA RAIL. CAROLINA RAIL.

(Porzana Carolina.)

This is the most common species in New Eng-
land as elsewhere on the eastern half of our
continent. Almost entirely a vegetable feeder,
in our sea marshes its "staff of life" is the long
white seeds of the marsh grass, or "thatch," as
it is called, which lines the edges of the tide
waters and marshy shores, and this, with the
snails and "wigglers" so abundant there, forms
its entire menu. It is said that in a marsh
where much shooting is done they will some-
times fill themselves up with shot, which, it is
claimed, they mistake for some kind of seed.
Though we have seen many a rail filled with shot
it was never willingly on the bird's part, and I
think it is our privilege to doubt this statement

232 FEATHERED GAME

until proven. Let us not trust entirely to the
rails' crops for our lead while we may buy else-
where. The average rail is very well content
with the ' ' thatch ' ' seed, which is plainly a very
nutritious food, for the rails on such diet are
always fat and in good order.

Rail-like, the Sora flushes only as a last re-
sort, preferring, if in danger, to run and skulk
through the grass, and will worm and twist its
way among the closest-growing stalks with con-
siderable speed — a proceeding for which the
shape of its body peculiarly fits it. On the wing
they are slow and clumsy, flying heavily with
their long legs hanging, and unless obliged to
continue their course they will generally drop
at once into the grass and run a little further
before hiding, hugging the cover even closer
at the next attempt to put them up. Yet these
same birds somehow travel from the mainland
to Cuba in their migratory flights, which take
place at night and mostly on the full of the
moon.

In New England the rail is almost wholly a
migrant. It is rarely that any of them brave
the rigors of our winters, and the few that at-
tempt it do so only in the southern parts. In

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THE SORA RAIL 233

the spring they arrive here about May and
leave for their winter quarters soon after the
first sharp frosts, though I have known of their
staying here (Maine) until December twentieth
in a mild season.

The Sora makes its nest of soft dry grasses
on a little hummock just above the high water
limit, and lays from four to six eggs, in color
a dull gray, splashed with brownish spots. The
young are covered with black down and are very
active almost from their arrival, running about
among the reeds like mice. From their retir-
ing habits and unobstrusive natures the rails
probably suffer less from hawks or other marsh
birds' enemies than do any of their neighbors.

My best sport at rail-shooting has been dur-
ing the high tides on the full of the moon in
September, when the sea had filled all the nooks
and corners of the marsh and driven the birds
in from their resting places on the long grass
and hummocks scattered through it. When the
tide was up they took refuge along the edges —
up in the fields — in the brush-grown coves,
where, when they flushed among the alders it
was almost woodcocking — in fact, anywhere to
find cover. A good spaniel is the best four-

234 FEATHERED GAME

footed assistant in this sport, both for finding
the game, retrieving the dead and capturing
skulking wounded birds. When beating up the
edges, suddenly the dog would stand, then creep-
ing cautiously up would stop again, with his
head cocked on one side, listening to the rail's
mouse-like, squeaking cries. At the word he
would send them fluttering heavily into the air,
the proper moment to shoot. You need no
heavy charge in this shooting. Your shots will
all be at close range and you will have plenty
of time. But to miss! That is simply dis-
graceful !

Perhaps the best way to hunt rails is for two
men to take a light, flat-bottomed skiff and pole
through the grass, shooting in turn. While
rails are not shot here in any such numbers as
in the Jersey marshes, any reasonable sports-
man should be satisfied with his day's fun, for
by pushing through the " thatch" in most New
England sea marshes a fair bag of these birds
may generally be made. On the high tides —
the full moon tides which are the best times to
try this — the rails may be seen running on the
edges, splashing about on the long grass-stems,
which, matted together, will permit them to

THE SORA RAIL 235

pass along as well as if on dry ground, or swim-
ming as buoyantly as ducks in the stretches of
clear water, bobbing their heads much as does
a hen when walking. Whether walking or run-
ning (and they are seldom still for an instant)
they are continually flirting their tails about,
usually carrying them jauntily erect. In the
spring these high tides are often very destruc-
tive to rail's nests and eggs.

If the Sora is wounded, but uninjured in the
legs, you may as well give up all idea of captur-
ing it without a dog ; for it runs rapidly through
tangled and matted grass, where you would
scarcely expect it to make any headway, and it
can swim as well under water as on the surface.
It is not uncommon to see them dive and cling
to the bottom as long as possible, only letting
go when half -drowned, and then making their
way to some hiding place in the grass where
they may put their heads out in safety.

The rail is an easy mark for the shooter be-
cause of its slow and steady flight, except when
traveling before a brisk breeze, when, of course,
it moves fast enough. However, rail shooting
requires a bit more skill than "potting" swal-
lows on a telegraph wire, even though it may

236 FEATHERED GAME

have less of the nerve-racking intensity which
makes the chief charm of a rough and tumble
with a "grizzly.'7

The Sora, the rail to the great number of
gunners, is about nine inches long and in wing-
spread about fourteen inches. The adult birds,
both male and female, are marked as follows:
upper parts a greenish brown, mottled with
black; many of the feathers having a fine edg-
ing of white. The bill, short, thick and stout,
of greenish yellow color; a black mask on the
face; cheeks, throat, breast and under parts a
dull ashy blue, lightening towards the lower
parts. Flanks barred with black and white, the
colors becoming more pronounced toward the
crissum. The young birds in the fall are simi-
larly marked, but in less decided colors, having
a reddish or buffy shade on the neck and breast,
and a gray or whitish patch on the throat.
These have no trace of the black mask on the
face.

The Sora Rail is usualty introduced to the
epicure in the form of a pie, and it is in this
stage that it makes the best showing, for its
flesh is tender and of delicate flavor. A rail

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THE YELLOW RAIL 237

pie which is constructed of rails is a most suc-
culent morsel, a very different creation from a
pie built from street-scavenging English spar-
rows, which is not uncommonly the material
used when the flight of soras has been small.

THE YELLOW RAIL.

(Porzana noveboracensis.)

This pretty little fellow is a visitor along the
eastern coast and in some of the inland marshes
of eastern North America. The range of its
migration is extensive, reaching from Hudson
bay to the Gulf of Mexico or even further south.
Nowhere in all this stretch of country is it
abundant, yet while most naturalists seem to
think it a rare visitor in New England, espe-
cially so in the northern parts, there is some
reason to believe that it is more numerous here
than is generally supposed. Indeed, from my
own experience I should say that it is more
common here than the Virginia rail, for within
the last three years I have known of the cap-
ture of possibly fifty specimens of the Yellow
Rail near Portland, Me., and have myself taken

238 FEATHERED GAME

at least half that number, while of the Virginia
rails scarcely twenty have been killed in the
same time.

The Yellow Rail seems to be quite hardy,
staying here after the other species have de-
serted us and the ice has made in the pond-
holes of the marsh. The writer has shot them
when there had been severe cold for Novem-
ber and after a snowfall of three or four inches.

He is a beautiful little bird, — his body color
a golden yellow, the feathers of his back and
wing coverts jet black with yellow edges, and
here and there speckled with tiny white spots.
His breast is a deep golden yellow, growing
paler below. Flanks and inside of wings
barred with black and white. Crissum golden
yellow. Length about six inches, extent ten or
thereabout. This is the smallest of the rails
ordinarily found in New England, though that
extremely rare straggler here, the black rail, is
even smaller.

The Yellow Rail is a more inveterate skulker
and, if possible, harder to flush than any other
of the family. Out of the first six specimens
which the writer obtained five were captured
by the dog and the sixth only escaped the same

THE BLACK RAIL 239

fate by being shot almost off the dog's nose as
he drove it up from the ground.

In form and habits the Yellow Rail is very
similar to the sora, but he dwells in the drier
levels of the marsh and in the meadow lands,
where the shorter grasses offer less impediment
to his feebler powers. His food is principally
of seeds, and his flesh (what there is of it) is
equally as good as that of the sora.

THE BLACK RAIL.

(Porzana jamaicensis.)

Of all the feathered dwellers in or visitors to
New England this is the rarest. There are
very few records of its capture in our borders.
In fact, few are taken anywhere in the United
States, though it may be more common than is
generally supposed, since, because of its small
size and retiring disposition it might easily be
overlooked. Its range lies mostly to the south-
ward of the United States. The bird is more
common in the West Indies, Central and South
America, where it visits as far south as Chile.

In length this little fellow is from five and
one-half to six inches ; in extent about nine and

240 FEATHERED GAME

one-half inches. Above, its body color is a blu-
ish black with minute specklings and barrings
of white. Below, dark slate color, a little
lighter on under side of wings, belly and flanks ;
under wing and tail coverts barred with white.

EUROPEAN CORN CRAKE.

(Crex crex.)

Seldom found in this section, nor, in fact, in
America anywhere, but in this vicinity (Port-
land, Me.) one, and possibly two specimens
have been taken. The one saved was shot on
the 14th of October, 1889, in the "Dyke Marsh"
in Falmouth, Me., and is now occupying a place
of high honor in the collection of my friend,
Dr. Henry H. Brock, of Portland. The speci-
men was in fine condition and in almost perfect
plumage. Above, dark brown and black, mot-
tled with lighter browns and yellows ; the wing
coverts a deep reddish brown, — burnt sienna is
about the shade. Below, yellowish and ashy
gray, paler on throat and belly ; flanks and cris-
sum with dusky brown bars; a brownish stripe
from the bill through the eye. Bill and eyes
brown; legs and feet pale yellow. In length

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THE PURPLE GALLINULE 241

some ten and one-half inches; extent about thir-
teen inches.

There are perhaps half a dozen records of
the capture of this species on the North Amer-
ican continent.

THE PURPLE GALLINULE.

(Ionornis martinica.)

Another distinguished southerner of rare oc-
currence here. His habits, shape and general
appearance are much the same as those of the
more common Florida Gallinule, but his mark-
ings are more brilliant. His head, neck and un-
der parts are a deep, purplish blue, shading on
the belly into black; sides and linings of the
wings bluish green. Crissum white. Above,
an olive green with a bluish cast on wing coverts
and neck. Frontal shield blue; bill bright red
with yellow tip. Legs yellow. Length from ten
to twelve, extent about twenty-two inches. A
most beautiful bird and sure to command atten-
tion when captured.

Nesting habits as in the more common spe-
cies, the Florida gallinule. From ten to a
dozen eggs form the complement for a nest.

242 FEATHERED GAME

The two species are found over much the
same territory though the present one is of
somewhat more southern habitat.

FLORIDA GALLINULE.

(Gallinula galeata.)

This species, quite common in the South At-
lantic and Gulf States, is only occasionally met
in New England and corresponding latitudes,
though specimens are rarely taken in the Mar-
itime Provinces of Canada. In northern New
England it is one of the least common of the
marsh dwellers. It is seldom that more than
two are taken in a season in this section, most
years passing without the capture of a specimen
being recorded in Maine.

The Florida Gallinule loves the tranquil
waters — the still lagoons overgrown with sedge
and grass, — for there the floating vegetation of-
fers the best chance for obtaining food. Much
preferring the fresh water ponds and streams,
this bird is rarely seen in the salt marshes and
then usually he is some stray traveler on his
way toward warm weather. In gait these birds
are much like the domestic fowl, bobbing their

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FLORIDA GALLINULE 243

heads in the same manner when walking.
They are good runners and in case of danger
have a great talent at disappearing; like their
cousins, the rails, they are more prone to run
and skulk than to fly. They are fairly good
swimmers, as well, sitting lightly and easily on
the water, keeping up the motion of their heads
and flirting their tails up and down in rail
fashion as they go. They are feeders upon
both animal and vegetable matter, the grass
seeds and the worms and snails of the bogs be-
ing equally acceptable to them.

Most of their traveling is done at night. It
is even said that their migrations (must we be-
lieve this?) are performed on foot — a sort of
feathered "tramp." Their legs are stout, and
except that the toes are long, slender and with-
out lobes, as in the rails, and that the bird is
somewhat smaller, it closely resembles the
"coot," or "mud hen," so well known to duck
hunters. The long toes spreading out over a
comparatively wide surface so distribute the
weight of the bird that it can run with the
greatest ease over the broad-leaved water
plants and matted floating grasses.

In its breeding dress the Florida Gallinule

244 FEATHERED GAME

is colored as follows: back brownish green, be-
coming a dusky color on the wings and tail.
Edge of wing white, crissum white with a
broad central patch of black running through
it to the end of the tail. Frontal plate red.
Bill red with yellow tip. Iris red-brown.
Legs and feet willowy green, nails black. The
bird is from twelve to fourteen inches long, and
from twenty to twenty-two inches in extent.

The bill and frontal plate in all specimens
before mentioned as having been taken near
Portland lacked the bright colors of the full
plumaged bird, these being replaced by dusky
green; all fall specimens.

The nests of this species are loosely made of
grass stems placed at the water's edge on tus-
socks of earth or even in some half-floating
drift-stuff. A nest often contains as many as
a dozen eggs. The Gallinule breeds anywhere
in its range.

THE COOT 245

THE COOT. WHITE-BILLED MUD-HEN.
"CROW DUCK."

(Fulica americana.)

A common bird in our marshes, well known
to the duck hunter, and remarkable principally
for its long, lobed toes. This bird is a sort of
connecting link, — an intermediate family be-
tween the gallinules and the waterfowl proper.
It closely resembles the gallinules save that its
feet are furnished with wide lobes on the toes,
much like the feet of a grebe, while the gallinule
has the long, slender toes of the rail family.

The Coot is most common in the fresh water
ponds and lakes, avoiding the rivers and ap-
pearing only casually in the sea marshes,
plainly preferring the still waters and stagnant
fens where there is an abundance of water in-
sects and vegetable matter. They swim well
and dive as deftly as any duck. The writer has
met them several times swimming in a broad
arm of the sea, almost the open ocean.

The Coot arrives in our latitude about the
middle of April and goes about its nesting at
once, sometimes raising two broods in a sea-

246 FEATHERED GAME

son. From eight to twelve eggs are laid in a
nest fashioned after the same classic architec-
ture as the rail's, — often, as in the gallinules,
on the anchored floating stuff of the ponds.
The period of incubation is about three weeks.
The young birds are very active, taking to the
water about as soon as they are hatched and are
at once able to take care of themselves. At
this time they are covered with a thick, black
down, and present a striking likeness to the do-
mestic chicken at the same stage of develop-
ment. The bill, white and showing the spot on
each mandible as in the adult, is even more con-
spicuous than in the older birds.

These birds as a rule have less success than
the rails in raising their families, as they are
oftener in the open water in plain view of the
hawks and other persecutors in fur and feath-
ers.

The Mud-hen looks like an overgrown rail
and has many of the rail's peculiarities; also
its dislike of flying, though not in so marked
a degree. It has, too, the same labored, lum-
bering flight, rising as heavily and flying as
slowly. If forced to rise from the water it
splashes and spatters along for some distance,

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THE COOT 247

half flying, half running, as do some of the
heavier and clumsier sea-fowl.

This bird gets much of its food by diving and
swims well under water, using its wings in con-
junction with its long, lobed feet, which are a
most serviceable pair of paddles.

In summer the separate families keep by
themselves, but when in the fall the young are
fully fledged and ready for business flocks of
considerable size are formed preparatory to
migrating. Our sportsmen seldom trouble the
Coots in ponds where much duck shooting is
done from blinds, since their flocks often
serve to decoy passing birds, which, seeing
the Coots swimming unconcernedly about, alight
near them, taking it for granted that all is safe
because of their presence. Perhaps, too, the
quality of their flesh may account in part for
their immunity from pursuit and the semi-pro-
tection afforded them, though the bird is a
cleanly feeder and lives for the most part on
vegetable food.

The general tone of the Coot's plumage is a
dark slate color, growing lighter and grayer
below, darkening on the head and neck. Dusky
greenish on the back; tail blackish; crissum

248 FEATHERED GAME

white, also the edge of the wing. The under
parts are covered with a thick coat of black
down beneath the feathers as in the ducks.
The bill is whitish, marked at the end by a
dull, reddish patch. Frontal shield chestnut.
Legs and feet greenish. Iris bright red.
Length from fourteen to sixteen inches; extent
from twenty-three to twenty-six inches.

THE GREATER SNOW GOOSE.

(Chen hyperborea nivalis.)

This species is one of general distribution in
North America, though in comparison with the
numbers found in the West the Snow Goose is
of rare occurrence in New England, and here,
as in the rest of the Atlantic States, it is entirely
maritime. These birds breed in the far north,
mostly on the Arctic shores of the continent and
on the almost unknown islands beyond, and their
only visits to New England are made during
the migrations. Even then they stay scarcely
longer than is necessary to rest and lay in a
stock of provisions for another flight. They ar-
rive on their journeying to the north a few days
later than does the Canada goose and commence

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THE GREATER SNOW GOOSE 249

their southern movements before the larger spe-
cies.

Few New England gunners have any per-
sonal acquaintance with this bird, but in the
West, on the plains, in the marshes and along
the Pacific coast they are very abundant during
the flight seasons. Their large flocks seen at
a distance on the brown grass look like the re-
mains of some great snow drift not yet con-
quered by the sun. In its eastern habitat it
passes the winter months in the South Atlantic
and Gulf States, and on its western range it
winters in Texas and on the coast of Southern
California in great numbers. On the Atlantic
coast line they become much more abundant
southward, where practically all the Snow
Goose population of the eastern half of the con-
tinent congregates for the cold weather.

Its plumage is very striking — for the most
part of snowy whiteness, with a speckling of
rusty brown on the head, darkest at the base of
the bill and gradually fading into the white of
the neck. Primaries blackish ; eyes brown ; feet
dull purplish red with black nails. The bill
very stout, deep and rather narrow, pale pur-
plish with white nail. In weight the Snow

250 FEATHERED GAME

Goose varies from six to eight pounds, thus not
so large as the Canada. The length of this spe-
cies is between twenty-eight and thirty inches,
with a wingspread of from fifty-eight to sixty-
two inches.

There are two other species of Snow Geese
in North America, both inhabiting the western
half of the continent, — the Lesser Snow Goose
(Chen hyperborea), a race which probably in-
tergrades with the present species, breeding
in Arctic America and Alaska and in winter
coming south to the central plains, or on the
coast to southern California, — and Ross' Snow
Goose (Chen rossii), the smallest of North
American geese, mainly a maritime race, breed-
ing far away in the north, and often associat-
ing with the Lesser Snow Goose, from which it
may be distinguished by the wart-like growth
at the base of the upper mandible. This spe-
cies has much the same range as its relative just
named, though, as mentioned, Ross' Goose is
more often taken on the coast. Neither of
these small geese are taken on the Atlantic
coast. None of these birds are much given to
coming to decoys.

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THE WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE 251

THE WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE.

(Anser albifrons gambeli.)

A rare bird all along the coast line of New
England, and in fact, on the entire Atlantic
coast, of more frequent occurrence in the West,
especially on the Pacific coast in winter. This
species breeds only in the far north, all across
the American continent, perhaps more abund-
antly on the northwestern ranges.

The sexes are identical in markings, which
are as follows: head and neck brownish; a
white patch around the base of upper mandible,
with a blackish margin behind it. Above dusky
gray; below whitish, smirched on the breast
with black of varying extent and depth of color,
from which marking they are sometimes called
"Speckle-bellies," a most classical appellation.
The crissum, upper tail coverts and sides of
the rump are white. Bill pale pink with white
nail. The young of this species is somewhat
different: a darker bird, lacking the white on
the head and having no black below. The
length of this species is from twenty-three to
twenty-five inches, extent from fifty-eight to

252 FEATHERED GAME

sixty inches. Its habits are very nearly iden-
tical with those of the better known Canada
goose, flying in the characteristic V-shaped
flocks and ranking about equal with that species
in table qualities.

This goose is represented in the Old World
by a species so close to our own race that it is
doubtful if even an expert could with certainty
distinguish between them. Apparently the dif-
ference is entirely one of size, our own species
having a trifling advantage in this.

THE CANADA GOOSE.

(Branta canadensis.)

What is the first harbinger of spring?
Surely the long files of the geese threading their
airy pathway are the surest signs that grim old
winter has begun to relax his grip upon the
earth. The boldest mayflower — the pluckiest
grassblades are not yet reckless enough to push
their tiny heads above the mud and ice which
make up the desolation called early spring in
New England. These merely listen to their
herald's trumpet note — then wisely turn over
for another nap. But never a whit cares the

THE CANADA GOOSE 253

good gray Goose, for, high up, safe from all
harm from human foe, their swift-moving
wedges keep steadily northward over city and
farmland, forest, lake, plain and open sea.
Anon comes down the distant clamor of the
flock — the wily old leader as he calls to the lag-
gards, perhaps encouraging them with the
praises of the region whither they are bound,
that the weary followers may keep up good
heart, for there are some who fain would rest
their wings and make a brief halt on the water
below. But not so the old gander. He remem-
bers vividly the dangers of that treacherous
place, for not yet has the calamity of last fall's
flight passed from his memory, — when the tired
youngsters were allowed to settle upon its
waters for rest. He knows full well what was
their rest!

Far below in city street or muddy country
road the sportsman stands up-gazing and fol-
lowing them with longing eyes until the last
faint "honk" has died away and the flock has
become but a speck against the dark mass of
the northern cloud-bank. For the rest of the
day that man's mind is scarcely to be kept on
the ledger or the farm's business, and ten to

254 FEATHERED GAME

one, when he goes home the tried companion of
a hundred pleasant shooting trips comes out
from its dusty case, is tenderly balanced in his
hands, thrown to his shoulder and aimed at an
imaginary goose, then carefully inspected and
thoroughly cleaned, though there is no need of
it, and at last reluctantly put away again. Per-
haps the poor fellow cannot break away from
his toil, but he will think and plan for the fu-
ture and in his dreams live over again his
merry days by field and marsh or on blue wa-
ters. Mayhap he hears the ripples chuckling
under the bows of his float with a merry spring-
time melody as he forces his small craft over the
gentle swells in pursuit of some unsuspecting
flock. Will he score one of them ? Of course !
For there are no "blank days" in the "happy
hunting grounds" of our dreams, and so he is
happier for the mere sight of that flying phalanx
of "honkers," and the memories which they re-
call of deeds performed at crack o' day with
sculling oar and goose gun.

Far away in the lagoons of the south the win-
ter months have been spent, and now a few
days, genial and bright with the promise of
spring, have filled the old gander's whole being

THE CANADA GOOSE 255

with a vague unrest. He mopes and is silent;
anon he stirs the whole flock with his noisy clat-
ter, and soon with a cry like a trumpet call he
spreads his brown wings for the north and the
safety of its frozen marshes. Every goose
within hearing joins him and away they go ; by
day and by night in a well nigh unending flight
he leads his followers to those Arctic shores.

When the wearied column comes down to rest
on the water, tired enough and loth to fly, the
gunner may ' ' scull ' ' them if he has skill in the
handling of a "gunning float" and is blessed
with a strong wrist. It is less tiresome to do
your "sculling" by proxy, however; therefore,
if you have some good-natured gunner friend,
the possessor of a double "float," it is good
judgment to cultivate his acquaintance at this
season of the year. The deep ones among our
duck and goose shooters are very polite to all
the steamboat skippers during the migratory
flights of the geese, and a mysterious wink from
one of these brass-buttoned people will catch
the bay gunners' attention quicker than a kick
from another man. "We passed a big flock of
geese down off the no'theast p'int of Clabbo'rd
Island on the way up. Tom says to come down

256 FEATHERED GAME

just as soon as you can get there," says one of
these in a confidential tone, and off you go to
get gun and shells ready for a trip down the
bay. As fast as your horse can take you you
go to your friend's home by the sea. It is a
long six miles through the deep and clinging
mud — a longer six miles to-day than ever, you
think — but you arrive at last, your poor nag
steaming from his jog. Your friend is impa-
tiently waiting, pacing his porch, spyglass in
hand, his attention divided between yourself
and that long black line a mile-and-a-half away
upon the water. He evidently expected you.
' ' Huh ! Here, are you ! How long does it take
that plug of yours to travel six miles of good
roads? I thought you were never coming!"
Even as he speaks and, grinning welcome,
grasps your hand, with his other paw, glass and
all, he points away to where the unsuspecting
birds are riding at ease. You seize the 'scope
the while he complains at such delay, to feast
your eyes upon that ravishing sight. A dozen
at least! Yes, twenty big "honkers" resting
and pruning their feathers in a security which
you intend shall be brief. Your horse is soon
cared for, then, — ' ' Come, now, how long are you

THE CANADA GOOSE 257

going to stare? Everything is ready. Let's
move!" A hurried gathering of war material
and you make for the shore where waits the
float. With a piece of ice on her long, low bow
and a rim of snow along her gunwales your
craft, showing not more than six or eight inches
above water, is hardly to be told from an ice-
cake at fifty yards distance. You take the oars
and drive the boat over the waves, perhaps with
a touch of selfish joy that there is no other craft
in sight. A mile away from the geese your
friend says, ' ' Now, pull in your oars and let me
scull. I don't dare risk rowing any further."
So you settle yourself down contentedly to let
this willing worker toil for you. Down you
go, laying your lazy length in the bottom of the
float, with not even the tip of your nose to show
above the gunwale, your head upon your com-
rade's knees, and as the spring sunshine plays
upon your face you think goose-shooting is not
such hard work after all. Your spirit is lulled
into a deep content and restfulness by the mo-
notonous, muffled "bump-hump — frwmp-bump"
of the sculling oar, and even the muttered curse
of your companion, whose wrist begins to tire,
is not altogether able to dispel your happiness.

258 FEATHERED GAME

Steadily and cautiously the dangerous little
craft has pushed its careful way among the
drifting ice cakes and has nearly gained a dis-
tance whence the shot may be sent into the
flock as yet unnoting our approach, when sud-
denly the old gander stretches up his neck and
nervously calling to his command sets them all
in motion and they paddle swiftly away. If
they are not pursued too closely as a rule they
think they can outrun their enemy, if enemy it
is, and becoming less cautious, do not so easily
take alarm next time. Therefore the man at
the scull oar slows up — only giving a few turns
of his wrist to keep the float's steerage way.
Bye and bye, after a half hour of laborious
manoeuvring you are almost near enough to
shoot. Stealthily the double float slips along —
just the top of the sculler's white cap and one
eye showing above the low gunwale, the only
signs of the pirate crew within. Look out, old
gander! Here's trouble for you!

Perhaps our amateur goose-hunter is not be-
ginning to be a little nervous. The only sounds
you hear are the low murmur of the ripples be-
neath the bows, the gride of small ice cakes
alongside, and the muffled monotone of the scull-

THE CANADA GOOSE 259

ing oar, fainter than ever from our pilot's
greater care as he moves it to and fro. Flat
on your back you lie with your face turned sky-
ward and wonder if the geese can't hear your
heart, throbbing, as it seems to you, like an
engine. You can bear it no longer. "How
far?" you ask. "Keep still! About a hun-
dred yards," the answer comes back in a sub-
dued whisper, and again your pulses renew
their dance. "They're swimming again.
Confound that gander!" (Let us change a
word here for good reasons; the remark need
not be rendered literally, but the toiler is
scarcely to blame for a trifle of impatience.)
"He's been over the route before." A mo-
ment later — "We're gaining a bit again. If
my wrist holds out and we can get twenty yards
nearer we can chance it. When I touch you sit
up and take the three together on the left —
the left, mind you. I will take care of those on
the right." Again only the gentle motion of
the boat and you could never tell that you were
moving, for every landmark is hidden, — only a
white gull far-wheeling in the blue and change-
less expanse above to look at. The warm sun
shines down into your face ; you close your eyes

260 FEATHERED GAME

as if for a quiet nap, but come out of your
trance very suddenly — the result of a vigorous
kick. "Quick, now! Wake up here!" ex-
claims the man at the scull-oar. "The left!"
and up you get and bring your gun to bear on
a big gray bird rising out of the water seventy
yards away, the first one that catches your eye,
then see another about forty yards distant and
change to him. Meanwhile your companion,
who has been watching them and has had his
birds all selected, gets in his two barrels — so
near your head that the concussion of his eight-
bore well nigh splits your ear drum — before
you are fairly ready to shoot. But you add
your contribution to the general uproar and see
your second barrel double up a big goose, which
falls into the water like a ton of coal. "Dead,
for a ducat ! ' ' (If it was not the one you meant
there is no one to know it except yourself and
you think that you can keep a secret.) Your
first charge was not properly placed, a lurch of
the float as your companion swung having
thrown you off, but Tom's former experience
and longer training have shown their fruits in
his gathering two with his first, where three
necks stood in line, and one with the second bar-

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THE CANADA GOOSE 261

rel. Away goes the flock with noisy honkings,
long necks outstretched and every nerve strain-
ing to get out of range. Away, weary as they
are, spurred to yet greater endeavors by two
more hasty shots from your comrade, and hur-
rying on until only the sharpest of eyes can
mark them down in the shadow of a distant
island. Your companion resumes his sculling
oar and pushes the float up to a crippled goose
which is getting into shape for another trial at
escape. Another shot collapses him. You
drag your trophies into the boat — only a feeble
shiver of wings by way of remonstrance. Are
you proud of your prize? You are no true man
if not. How large does he look to your de-
lighted eyes as he lies in the bottom of the float?
Though your companion's birds are all larger
than your own you will never admit it and have
no eyes for any but the goose you have killed
"all by }7ourself."

The birds are weary and will not go out of
the bay, but there goes another float after them
and as it is nearer to the flock than is your own
craft you decide to wait here a while. They
may come this way next time they fly, when you
can try it again. If they don't come back you

262 FEATHERED GAME

have reason to be satisfied still and have had
your share. Though you have not killed your
forty or fifty geese, as they tell it in the West,
you are satisfied. I have noticed that the New
England gunner generally has to be satisfied
with smaller game returns than his western
brother receives for his efforts.

I remember once coming upon a small flock
in their northward flight. They had just ar-
rived from the south and were sorely tired.
In the marsh where they had settled, the win-
ter's ice had swept away every vestige of cover
and not a stalk of the last season's rank-grow-
ing grass remained, save in a few spots well
above high water mark, where some scanty
brush and a thin fringe of salt hay was left
standing after winter's work. At my approach
thus unprotected the flock at once took wing
and scaled away long before I could get within
gun-shot. An hour passed, and chancing to
look in the direction in which they had gone I
saw the whole flock returning and about a mile
away. Nearer and nearer they came and I at
once hunted cover where there was none in the
flat stretch of mud and water. Five hundred
yards — four hundred — three hundred — and in

THE CANADA GOOSE 263

the mire I crouched in a motionless heap with
my hat full of shells loaded with BB and buck-
shot lying beside me, and in my mind already
I owned the whole flock. One hundred and
fifty yards away, and at a single warning note
from the leader they turned aside and swung
slowly past just out of reach. With necks out-
stretched and wings set, they drifted down to
the water and alighted just at a safe distance.
Here and there tussocks of black mud rose from
the slimy shallows, and taking his station on
one of these the old file leader stood sentinel
while the others, scattered over the surrounding
surface, were soon contentedly feeding. Pre-
sently the gander's appetite began to urge its
claims upon him, and giving an impatient call
he was speedily relieved, the nearest goose
clambering upon his point of observation even
while he was leaving. No quarreling, but with
ready obedience the guard duty was done, each
knowing that his neighbor would cheerfully
perform his part. While the gander was get-
ting his bite, and during the hour's time which
I spent hoping they might feed in shore and so
give me my chance, fully half a dozen birds took
their turn at watching while all the rest were

264 FEATHERED GAME

filling up as though they thought that the next
station was to be Labrador, and no "five min-
utes for refreshments" by the way. The ease
and grace of their movements were a matter of
great surprise to me, and it can never be truth-
fully said that the Goose is either clumsy or
stupid. But luck was against me ; the tide was
falling, food was abundant where they had" set-
tled and they came no nearer. At last an
alarming cry from the watchful bird on duty
and again the flock took wing and flew away. I
looked about for the cause of their departure
and saw coming down the marsh half-a-mile
off two gunners, whose movements had caused
my feathered friends to leave thus uncere-
moniously. So I had wasted a full hour in try-
ing to get within distance — and yet perhaps not
wasted, for to my mind no time should be con-
sidered wasted when spent in the good company
of the brave gray Goose.

The general impression outside the circle of
the shooting fraternity seems to be that the
Goose is a big, clumsy bungler — a most thick-
skulled, slow-witted bird, but no sportsman who
is at all acquainted with him will ever pass such
a judgment. Seen moving on the water in their

THE CANADA GOOSE 265

times of peace they are nearly as graceful as
the swan. As to their intellect — let their de-
tractors try to get within killing distance and
see for themselves who is the smarter.

Many are shot from blinds in the fresh water
ponds with live decoys anchored along the
shores, — some old wing-tipped veterans whose
wounds have been cured and the birds more
than half domesticated for this purpose. They
take very kindly to civilised ways and tame in
a wonderfully short time. After a week of cap-
tivity the wildest goose will become so tame
that it will almost have to be kicked from under
foot in the yards. When left to their own de-
vices and not too much assisted in their house-
keeping affairs they breed readily in their new
surroundings. Most of the decoys for the
shooting are thus obtained. Very rarely a bird
tamed to the semi-domestic state is influenced
by the migratory instinct to depart with its
wild kindred. But perhaps more would be lost
from this cause if they were not in most cases
''pinioned."

Not a goose can fly over the horizon that
these decoys do not see, and the gander will try
his most alluring arts and most enticing music

266 FEATHERED GAME

for their undoing. Few are the hungry trav-
elers that do not come in for rest and food at
his invitation. Many shooting clubs have large
flocks of decoys and elaborate methods of hand-
ling them, letting bird after bird free from their
hidden pens to rush to the water when a flock
of visitors are wavering in their minds as to
coming in. The decoys rarely fail to bring
their wild brethren into trouble at last, and, like
humanity, the geese thus trained seem to enjoy
their mean trade.

The full grown Canada Goose is a most
worthy bird: the largest return for his powder
and shot that comes to the average sportsman.
A Goose of ordinary size will weigh eight
pounds, and occasionally old ''honkers" are
brought to bag which will tip the scales at
twelve or fourteen pounds. Nor is the bold fel-
low to be despised at the table, for his flesh is
of good flavor, and unless the subject is too
long experienced in the ways of the world, the
meat is nice and tender. Surely they are as
good for all ordinary purposes as any of the
breeds now found in the farmer's barnyard,
and the wonder is that more have not been do-
mesticated.

THE CANADA GOOSE 267

The whole continent of North America is the
home of the Canada Goose. It breeds in any
suitable place from the Middle States north-
ward to the islands of the Arctic seas, but the
greater number build their nests in the Sas-
katchewan country and thence north to the limit
of the Canadian forests. The interior of Lab-
rador, too, has its breeding myriads, where one
friend tells me, "I have seen all the Geese in
the world in one flock!" Among New Eng-
land's more remote and unfrequented lakes,
particularly those among the Maine woods, this
Goose occasionally raises its family. Nests are
usually upon the ground, though there have
been instances where they have built in trees,
taking possession of deserted nests of hawks
or other large birds, and presumably have
transported their clumsy babies to the water in
their beaks, after the manner of the wood duck.
The complement of eggs varies from five to
eight, usually the smaller number, grayish
green in color, and about three and one-half
inches long.

This species is the most common and widely
dispersed of our geese, and a fine looking fellow
is the gander in his spring suit, despite the

268 FEATHERED GAME

fact that there is no gaudy color in his raiment.
His head and neck are jet black, with a broad
half-encircling band of white from beneath the
throat and chin running up on each cheek just
behind the eye, and usually a touch of white on
his eyelids. The upper parts are grayish
brown shading off from the black of the lower
neck with each feather a trifle lighter on its
edges. The rump black; the upper tail coverts
snowy white, standing out in beautiful contrast
between the rump and the tail feathers, which
are also jet black. Below, the same color as
above, but of lighter shade, the gray breast
growing lighter still toward the lower parts, the
crissum being pure white. The iris is brown;
bill and feet black. His length is from thirty-
six to thirty-nine inches, and the spread of his
wings may exceed five feet. The female is
marked like the male, and save for a somewhat
brownish tone in the blacks she is exactly simi-
lar to her mate.

HUTCH1NS' GOOSE 269

HUTCHINS' GOOSE.

(Branta canadensis hutchinsii.)

This is a smaller variety of the common spe-
cies, more numerous to the westward than in
our section, though I believe by no means un-
common in our own territory. The habits and
mode of life of this bird are in every respect
identical with the typical bird and all that may
be said of one will apply with equal correctness
to the other. The main distinction between the
two lies in the smaller size and usually darker
color of this variety, and in the fact that it has
but from fourteen to sixteen feathers in the
tail, while the common goose is supplied with
eighteen or twenty. Length, wingspread and
all measurements average considerably smaller
than in the common Canada Goose.

The scientific standing of this variety was for
some time considered doubtful, though it is now
conceded to rank as a subspecies.

The bay gunners of eastern New England
waters distinguish between two races of Can-
adas, the "long-necked geese" and the "short-
necked geese," the latter coming north, as a

270 FEATHERED GAME

rule, somewhat later and returning ahead
of the first named. Not that the two do not
travel together, but the later arrivals in the
spring and the first comers in the fall are said
to average a larger percentage of "short-
necked geese." This spring I have had four
of these so-called '"short-necked geese," of
which one was doubtful and three undoubtedly
of the present sub-species. If this average will
hold it will show Hutchins' Goose to be far
from uncommon here.

THE COMMON BRANT.

(Branta bernicla glaucogastra.)

These birds breed all through the northern
part of the continent and the islands north of
it, as well as all along the west coast of Green-
land, and are reasonably abundant on our
coasts during the migrations. Perhaps we
should say unreasonably abundant considering
the numbers annually slaughtered from sink
boxes and over decoys a little farther south of
us, and mostly in the spring flights at that.

The Brant is mainly maritime, though occa-
sionally found in the larger inland waters, and

*"^

Z

THE COMMON BRANT 271

while a common bird in the Old World is found
in North America only on the eastern half.
The bird is well known and highly esteemed by
the gunner. It comes well to decoys and fur-
nishes good sport. Its flesh, too, is of good
flavor despite its somewhat rank food of mol-
lusks and the like. When possible to do so the
Brant chooses a vegetable diet.

It is marked as follows: head and neck jet
black, as is also the forebreast. A small patch
of white on each side of the neck. Breast ashy
gray, this color sharply contrasted with the
black above, and fading below into the white
of the belly and crissum. Above, a dusky
brown, with paler margins to the feathers, the
rump growing darker and the upper tail coverts
showing snowy white between this dark area
and the black tail feathers. Wing quills also
blackish. Iris brown; bill, feet and claws
black. Length about twenty-four, extent of
wings some forty-eight inches. Weight about
four pounds.

In northern New England the Brant is rarely
shot over decoys, our method being that toil-
some fashion of pushing a gunning float around
the bay in steady pursuit until the birds get

272 FEATHERED GAME

sick of running away and so allow the gunner
to get within range and end it all. They are
not very difficult of approach as compared with
the average of our ducks and their big cousins,
the Canadas. The smaller flocks are ordin-
arily more readily approached than the large
ones — a general rule in all such bay gunning.

We in the north of the Gulf of Maine see
few of these migrants at either season, but the
brant slayer of Cape Cod is more favored of
the gods. Not only has he a hundred birds
where we have one, but no weary toil at the
"scull oar" is his, for the Cape is about the last
stopping place of their migration and here they
plan to rest and "take in ballast," as the gun-
ners name their habit of filling their crops with
sand.

When the flights strike there, usually the lat-
ter part of April or the first of May, the wise
gunner has his small "shanty" erected near
the beach, a sink box set in the sands on a con-
venient point near high water mark, and if no
natural bar is there he proceeds to build one a
fair gunshot away from the sink and just high
enough to be above the lift of the tide. Here
his live decoys may disport and enjoy them-

THE COMMON BRANT 273

selves as much as their anchors and road lines
will permit. When, as the rising tide drifts
them in, the flocks of Brants see these captives
upon their little islands, they paddle in to clam-
ber up and take part in their joys. The gun-
ners, for there are usually several in a box,
may make a heavy killing, each taking a sep-
arate portion of the flock and raking it with
deadly effect at a given signal. After a few
such experiences the birds usually "tower"
into the air to a great height and bear away
for the north. A wounded Brant is commonly
captured, for it seldom dives nor is it a fast
swimmer.

The name, Brant Goose, is a corruption of
Brent, or Burnt, Goose, referring to its char-
coal coloring.

The Pacific coast and western country has a
representative of the race which is closely re-
lated to this species — the Black Brant. This
also winters on the Asiatic coast as well as on
our own.

274 FEATHERED GAME

THE MALLARD.

(Anas boschas.)

From the records of our older gunners the
number of Mallards now visiting our section
shows a material decrease in the last few years.
Even up to fifteen years ago they were not un-
common, but now this world-wide favorite with
the wildfowler is seldom seen here (Maine) ex-
cept in the favored waters of Merrymeeting
Bay, which place, as regards the number and
variety of wildfowl found, is probably the best
duck-shooting point anywhere along the north-
east coast of the United States. In Casco Bay
we may take fifty Mallards in a season, though
I think this is a very liberal estimate.
Throughout the central portion of the continent
this is the most numerous species of wildfowl.
But with all this scarcity of Mallards in our
waters there is still a crumb of comfort for us
in the thought that we have the black duck, a
near relation, and as a game bird fully the equal
of, and in some respects superior to, Mr. Mal-
lard himself. Were it not for the black duck
the New England wildfowler who is not con-

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THE MALLARD 275

tent with shooting " trash ducks" might as well
sell his ten-bore for old metal for all the
pleasure he would get from it; but the crop of
duskies seems to be pretty much the same each
year, for which blessing we should be truly
thankful.

After their arrival on the breeding grounds
the Mallards choose their mates, the drakes
often fighting fierce battles for the possession
of the belles of the flock. As each pair agrees
to join forces for the season they leave the main
body to seek out a suitable nesting place.
They usually make their nest upon the ground,
but will not refuse to occupy the deserted nest
of hawk or crow if in a spot where they have
reason to think that the ground floor is unsafe.
Their nests are lined with dry grass and down
from their own bodies. The complement of
eggs varies from eight to ten, dingy yellowish
gray in color, and not to be distinguished from
those of the domestic bird. The period of in-
cubation is about four weeks.

In the Old World the Mallard is one of the
commonest ducks, nesting in the northern por-
tions of Europe and Asia, and wintering in
southern Asia and northern Africa. With us

276 FEATHERED GAME

it occasionally breeds in the United States, but
mostly to the northward, though the rice-grown
lakes and swamps of some of our north-western
States are fairly well populated with them in
the nesting season. The principal breeding
ground lies in Canada in the Saskatchewan
country. The absence of breeding Mallards
on our continent eastward of Hudson Bay and
their common occurrence in Greenland opens
up a field for investigation. The bird life of
Greenland includes many Old World species.
Aside from the stray representatives of the
European form there is in Greenland a distinct
resident race of Mallards. It is hardly credible
that the American race would cross hundreds
of miles of equally good breeding territory on
the mainland to nest in Greenland. Again, is
it not possible that the comparatively few Mal-
lards which find their way to northern New
England, especially in the winter months, may
be from the shores of Greenland, and so, per-
haps, of the Greenland race rather than our
own western form? The cold weather as a rule
finds them comfortably settled in the lagoons
and bayous of the South Atlantic and Gulf
States, where they may laugh at winter's

THE MALLARD 277

storms and revel in food in abundance; but the
writer has known of several fine specimens in
full breeding plumage being taken on our coast
(in Casco Bay) during the very severest of the
winter's weather, all male birds and nearly al-
ways alone. On the Pacific coast they winter
from the Aleutian Islands to southern Califor-
nia.

The farmer is indebted to this species for the
common domestic duck, which is a lineal de-
scendant of this gallant gentleman, yet few
would guess from the clumsy waddle of the
bird of the barnyard that he had any blood in
common with this free courser of lake and
marsh. What a degenerate scion of a noble
race ! In his habits the domestic bird has kept
as closely as may be to the ways of his ances-
tors, but his lazy life and uneventful existence
have taken away well nigh all the wild bird's
fire and graceful action, so that he falls far
short of his model.

Our hero is brilliantly appareled in showy
garb, and is a handsome bird, especially in his
spring plumage. The female, as is usually
the case with the duck family, is attired
in much more sober dress. The drake, then,

278 FEATHERED GAME

is colored on the head and upper neck a
rich, metallic green, lustrous and glossy. A
sharply denned ring of white runs around
the neck at the base of this area, and be-
ginning under this the lower neck and up-
per breast are a rich, deep chestnut with a
purplish sheen, fading into the silver gray of
the lower breast and under parts of the body,
this gray color finely waved with faint darker
lines. Lower part of the back, rump, tail cov-
erts and crissum black. Tail feathers whitish,
central ones growing more dusky, and with two
black, up-curling feathers at the base of the
tail. Speculum (the bright patch in the wing
formed by the ends of some of the secondaries)
purplish, changing color with each different
view point, now purplish, now violet, now
green, and bordered about by a margin of black
feathers, these in turn being defined by a bar
of white showing at the ends of the coverts and
at the outer edge of the speculum. Iris brown ;
bill greenish yellow; feet and legs orange red
with webs a trifle darker and duller in tone.
The female is clad in a mixed and mottled dress
of black, dusky brown and tawny yellow, this1
last the body color, lighter in shade on the head,

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THE BLACK DUCK 279

neck and under parts and the dark markings
finer and fainter here. Wings and feet as in
the male bird, save that the scapulars are of
the same tawny hue as the rest of the body.
Bill orange with a dusky patch on each side.

In length the Mallard is from twenty-two to
twenty-four inches; in extent from thirty-two
to thirty-six inches, and of weight varying from
two and one-half to three and one-quarter
pounds.

THE BLACK DUCK. DUSKY DUCK.

(Anas obscura.)

This is the duck of New England. To the
wildfowler of this section the Black Duck is all
that the mallard is to his western brother; aye,
more than all, because he must be mallard, red-
head, canvasback, pintail and many another
western favorite rolled into one acute and re-
sourceful waterfowl. Mallard and Black Duck
are closely related, but inhabit an area of our
land apart from each other. They have ap-
parently divided the continent between them,
the Black Duck taking the northern and east-
ern range, leaving to the other the southern

280 FEATHERED GAME

and western country. Rarely do they encroach
upon each other's territory except in the south
during the winter months. This species ranges
to northern Labrador in summer, both coast
and interior, in winter going south to Florida
and rarely beyond.

Because of its abundance and the excellence
of its flesh the Black Duck has long been the
commonest of the wildfowl in our markets, but
happily the laws now prevent the sale of this
fine bird in much of the northern range of its
family in the United States. He stays with us
the year around. When in winter the inland
lakes and streams are closed to him and he is
left to the cold mercy of snow and ice, nothing
daunted, he betakes himself to the coast, and in
the never-frozen waters of the sea finds food
in abundance and, for the most part, safety.
At such times the Black Duck lives in the larger
bays and the open ocean, during the day time
sleeping contentedly on the water if the weather
is fair, and seeking shelter from the storms on
the lonely isles and in cozy nooks on the deep-
sea ledges, flying into the tide-waters and visit-
ing the "mussel-beds" each night to feed, per-
haps coming ashore for fresh water so needful

THE BLACK DUCK 281

to him. When untroubled he will stay for days
in a quarter where food is plenty.

Many are killed during the winter nights by
gunners who approach them in their deadly
"floats" and shoot them as they huddle on the
edges of the ice or feed along the muddy banks
of the channels. Some gunners go to the air-
holes in the ice with a number of half-tamed
birds, the wounded and crippled survivors of
former gunning trips cured and half domesti-
cated to serve as decoys. Securely fastening
these to a long line and anchoring them at a
proper distance, the gunner sits silent and mo-
tionless in his float until the whizzing and rush-
ing of wings and the splashing of the water tell
of the arrival of expected visitors, and he points
his barrels by the light of the moon if there hap-
pens to be a moon on duty that night. It is a
cold kind of business — this sitting still in your
boat on a winter's night with not even the priv-
ilege of walking about to keep alive.

The Black Duck is wary and cautious in the
extreme, few of his tribe being so difficult of
approach, scenting danger while it is yet afar
off and waiting not a second warning, but ris-
ing into the air with a mighty leap as though

282 FEATHERED GAME

thrown up by a powerful steel spring, then off
like a streak. It is next to impossible to get
within shot reach of him in a gunning float in
the open water, and it is not the easiest matter
to get at him in the marshes where there is
plenty of cover, for his hearing is of the quick-
est, his sight of the keenest, and every sense is
constantly on the alert. It seems as though his
sense of smell would detect an enemy more
surely than would another duck's eyesight. In
a mixed gathering of waterfowl society, to the
Black Duck seems given the full responsibility
of sentry duty — no mean compliment to his
ability.

Probably the most of these birds which fall
a prey to the gunner's wiles are shot from
"sink-boxes" and "blinds" in the reed-grown
corners of fresh water ponds, using live decoys
to lure the birds on to their destruction. The
successful duck-shooter must be up betimes and
be ready to endure much discomfort, for he
must be at his position before daylight in order
to get the cream of the shooting, and, where
gunners are as numerous as in my section, a
late comer is apt to find every stand occupied.

The decoys are placed before the blind, an-

THE BLACK DUCK 283

chored, as a rule, so that one old drake is some-
what separated from the rest, and being dis-
satisfied and lonesome, he keeps up a continual
remonstrant conversation with the rest of his
flock. If a bunch of birds is passing never fear
but he will see them and find means to let the
strangers know of his presence and where-
abouts, and they, with a sudden turn from their
course, with necks outstretched and wings
stiffly set, come in at full speed. Now they turn
away, careering around the pond two or three
times because the foxy old fellow who leads
them is not just suited with the appearance Of
things, — some small matter of suspicion in his
mind, — but next time around a bird or two in
the tail of the flock, more hungry than wise,
drop out with slanting flight, — then another,
and yet more, — until finally the main body
comes in like a flight of arrows. Splash!
Splash ! They have settled just outside the line
of decoys and begin to swim in toward them.
Now the gunner waits until they are bunched
at a little distance from his "tolers," which if
old hands at the business at once swim away
from their visitors, and when his feathered as-
sistants are surely safe the gunner pulls trig-

284 FEATHEEED GAME

ger where there is the greatest number of
heads. The encore when the survivors rise like
the scattered fragments of a bursting shell will
hardly account for more than a pair, but usually
the "pot-shot" with the first barrel has done
grand service toward thinning the game sup-
ply, and it is no uncommon occurrence for one
gun in experienced hands to gather in nearly
all of the flock. I have known a man to wait
twenty minutes with his destroyer resting on
the edge of the "sink" in order to clean up the
whole bunch with one cartridge. Commend-
able economy! These methods are mainly em-
ployed by market gunners whose favorite
weapon is, in most cases, an eight- or four-bore
"shoulder cannon." To the majority of
shooters I believe that one duck killed cleanly
on the wing will bring more real satisfaction
than half a dozen thus murdered.

Very rarely is the Black Duck fooled by any
wooden imitation of his kind. His keen eyes
mark the difference long before he is within the
reach of the gun, and swerving on rapid wings
he climbs skyward and makes off at great speed
— going clean out of sight, returning not at all
to such a dangerous neighborhood.

THE BLACK DUCK 285

As soon as the ice of the inland lakes breaks
np in the spring the Black Duck finds it out in
some mysterious way, and no devotee of rod
and reel — trout fisher or salmon killer — is ear-
lier upon the scene than is he. Forsaking the
sea, unmindful of its kindly shelter and gener-
ous living when all the fresh water ponds and
lakes refused him sustenance, he hurries away,
like the fickle fellow he is, to the swamps and
bog-holes of the interior as soon as ever he can.
Here, during the merry days of spring and sum-
mer, he lives like a lord in the fullness and
plenty of the good things of life, and the sea
knows him no more until the fall migration com-
mences.

This species nests in May or June, according
to locality and seasons, raising a brood vary-
ing in number from six to ten. The nests are
commonly made upon the ground, though oc-
casionally upon the top of some decayed stump.
The youngsters appear during June, or July at
latest, and are as lively a family of infants as
any proud parent could wish. Any person who
doubts their abilities should try to catch some
unfledged duckling. If there is cover enough
anywhere near in which to hide, rest assured

286 FEATHERED GAME

that the little "flapper" will find it, for the
Black Duck at any age is a most skillful
skulker.

Though by far the greater number have gone
on for summer quarters to Labrador and the
Hudson Bay country, the more remote lakes and
ponds of Maine are alive with these fine birds
during the breeding season. Scarcely a se-
cluded cove or hidden nook in their margins
but has its brood of "waddling" youngsters,
happy in the plenty that leaves no want un-
filled. When the summer wanes and the young
birds have become strong enough to journey,
straggling ducks begin to make their appear-
ance in the salt marshes, then in small bunches,
a few at a time, as cold weather approaches
they gather at the sea into flocks ranging from
twenty to two hundred birds. Near my home
they gather winter after winter at the mouth of
a fresh water river in a body of, at times, as
many as five thousand birds, coming in at night
and spending their days on the salt water, ex-
cept in bad weather, when they huddle on the
ice at a safe distance from shore. From the
first of September such of their number as are
not inclined to brave the rigors of a New Eng-

THE BLACK DUCK 287

land winter begin their longer journey to south-
ern waters, and up to the middle of December
the migrant birds continue to pass.

There is a vast difference between the flavor
of the winter bird, fed on the mussels and an-
imal food of the salt water, and that of the
lazy dweller in the summer lakes; at the table
one would scarcely know them for members of
the same family. If their plumage and habits
differed as much as the taste of their flesh there
would be strong ground for the opinion which
has been advanced that the birds of our win-
ter months are of a race distinct from the birds
which we gather during the fall flights. This
belief is based upon the larger size, darker
color, much heavier streaking on head and neck,
brighter yellow of the bill, and redder tinge of
the feet and legs of the cold weather visitor —
naming it the "Hudson Bay Duck," and claim-
ing that it is a more northern race than the
other. This is the one occasion which has come
to my notice where the sportsman has gotten in
ahead of the scientist in the separation of a
sub-species : by our duck shooters these differ-
ences have long been noted and this theory of
a separate race been held. One experienced

288 FEATHERED GAME

wildfowler of my acquaintance claims that this
duck never goes near the inland waters, but
is entirely a maritime race. This seems hardly
probable, but there is certainly more reason for
this bit of "feather-splitting" than for many
other cases already admitted to good standing
in the ornithologist's list. Mr. William Brew-
ster, of Cambridge, Mass., has given this north-
ern form official sanction and the scientific
name of Anas obscura rubripes.

It may be well to state that in the southern
part of its range there are two varieties of
this duck known to the scientist, although the
average gunner would not be likely to note a
difference; these are the Texan and the Flor-
idan Black Duck. The Floridan race is of
lighter color than the typical bird; cheeks and
throat very pale buff, almost, if not quite, with-
out streaking; bill yellowish olive with a black
nail and a patch of black at the base of upper
mandible, resembling somewhat more the fe-
male mallard than the type of the Black Duck.
Speculum sometimes greenish, sometimes pur-
plish, and often the feathers making it are
white-tipped.

The Texan race has a dirty gray color on

THE BLACK DUCK 289

the throat, cheeks and neck, these last slightly-
streaked with brown lines. Speculum purple,
feathers tipped with white. Under parts
lighter than in northern races, each feather
spotted near the tip with dusky brown. Both
these races show markings which might indi-
cate a mallard cross. Hybrids between mallard
and black duck are not uncommon. Probably
"Brewer's Duck," described and figured by
Audubon, was such a bird.

There is yet another species (Diaz' Black
Duck) resident in Central America and Mexico,
closely resembling the two southern forms.

The Black Duck is a strong flyer, swift of
wing and capable of putting in many miles with-
out a halt, in its migratory flights passing over
at a height which makes it secure from all harm.
The spring and fall months, of course, see more
Black Ducks in our waters than do any other
seasons, these excursions to and from the breed-
ing grounds bringing many travelers of this
sort to our shores and lakes.

In the West our Black Duck is sometimes
called the Black Mallard. He resembles some-
what the female of that species but is consider-
ably darker in his coloration. In size the two

290 FEATHERED GAME

are about equal though in the few comparisons
which the writer has had the opportunity of
making the Black Duck has had a shade the
better of the weights. The male and female of
this species are marked alike, and the male
bird may usually be distinguished by the fine
line of white on the outer edge of the speculum,
but this rule is not invariable. The general
color of these birds is a dull, dusky brown, with
a lighter yellowish brown on the edges of the
feathers. Head and neck are lighter in tone
and of a yellowish buff shade, darker on the top
of the head and back of the neck, lighter on the
throat and streaked with dark brown lines
which are more numerous on the hind neck and
crown than on cheeks, chin and throat. The
speculum is of deep violet hue, set in a black
frame; usually in the male with a fine edging
of white showing on the tips of the feathers
which make it. Iris brown; bill yellowish
green with a black nail; feet are dull orange
with dusky webs and black nails.

The weight of this species ranges from two
and one-half to three and one-half pounds. The
length averages from twenty-two to twenty-
four inches; in extent the measurements vary

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THE GADWALL 291

from thirty-two to thirty-four inches. I think
the " Hudson Bay Duck" may average from
one-half to three-quarters of a pound heavier
than our summer and fall resident, with a cor-
responding increase in its sail-plan. Have
heen informed by reliable parties of a Northern
Black Duck weighing four and one-half pounds.
The Black Duck is one of the largest of the
"river ducks," and in proper condition is un-
surpassed for the table. Its food is clean and.
its flesh is usually tender and of good Savor.
This duck is easily domesticated. It might be
a profitable investment for someone to raise
them for the market. They are hardy, would
need little care, and would probably thrive with
a fair chance. It is likely that they would sell
well in the markets, judging from the way the
wild birds have always been snapped up in this
neighborhood in the days when sale was per-
mitted.

THE GADWALL. GRAY DUCK.

(Chaulelasmus streperus.)

Though found more or less abundantly in
all parts of North America, and in fact all

292 FEATHERED GAME

over the Northern Hemisphere, and breeding
throughout its range, this duck is an uncommon
visitant in the eastern and coast waters of our
continent north of South Carolina. Here is
another case of discrimination against the New
England gunner, for in our section it is even
more rarely found. In a twenty years' ac-
quaintance with one of the best duck-shooting
ponds of the New England States I have heard
of only three Gadwalls being taken there, have
seen but five birds which had been killed in this
locality, and have never seen the bird in life
in these waters. Its home is through the cen-
tral and western portions of our country, from
our prairies north to the Saskatchewan.

It is a fine table bird, ranking well up at the
head of the list. Not far removed from the
mallard in kin, and of about the same size, the
female somewhat resembles the female of that
species in markings and dress. They come well
to mallard decoys and often mix with mallards
in flight and on the feeding grounds. The notes
of the two are nearly identical. Both are shoal
water feeders, seldom diving but getting their
living along the banks and edges of the lakes
or by "tipping" in the shallows.

THE GADWALL 293

The Gadwall builds its nest upon the ground
or in low, dead stubs. The complement of eggs
varies from six to ten in number, usually nearer
the smaller figure. The color of these is a deli-
cate creamy white. The male is a very prettily
marked bird with some brilliant touches of
color in his plumage. His head and neck are
a pale yellowish white, streaked with dusky or
black; darker and brownish in tone, as well as
more heavily streaked on the crown. Lower
neck all around, breast and upper parts of the
back bluish black, the feathers with fine edgings
of white, many of them having spots of the
same color on their centres, thus giving the ef-
fect of a delicate collar of lace. These colors
are more sharply defined on the breast, and on
the back gradually blend with the body colors.
Lower back dusky, growing black on the rump
and tail coverts. The scapulars are a dull red-
dish brown; lesser upper coverts gray, chang-
ing and shading into a bright chestnut on the
middle coverts and again to black on the great-
er coverts. Speculum white. Linings of the
wings white; axillars white, with white shafts.
Under parts grayish or white, with faint dusky
pencillings, the vermiculations heavier and

294 FEATHERED GAME

wider upon the sides and flanks ; under tail cov-
erts black. Bill dull bluish; feet dull orange
with dusky webs and nails. Iris reddish
brown.

The female is a little smaller than the male;
bill orange yellow with splashes of dusky color
upon it. Feet as in the male, perhaps a little
more dingy in shade. Above, the bird is col-
ored with a mixture of tawny yellow, brown
and black. Little or no chestnut on wing cov-
erts; speculum white. The young male dur-
ing the first year resembles the female, as is
the rule with most ducks of the year.

In length this species is from twenty-one to
twenty-three inches ; in extent it averages from
thirty-three to thirty-five inches. Weight about
two and one-half pounds.

The title, "blarting duck," is given it in some
localities from its noisy habits. The scientist
has used a more euphonious word, but freely
translated, streperus conveys the same idea.

This species is almost entirely a citizen of
the fresh water. In some portions of the coun-
try it is known as the "Creek Duck" because
of its marked fondness for small streams. In
common with the other "river ducks" the Gad-

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THE WIDGEON 295

wall is a vegetable feeder, but it can put up with
a fish diet if the other sort of provender is hard
to come by.

THE WIDGEON.

(Mareca americana.)

While not so numerous in our corner of the
continent as is the black duck, the Widgeon is
fairly abundant; perhaps more so than is gen-
erally supposed. Shy, wary and difficult of ap-
proach it is not always recognized at the safe
distance at which it usually takes flight. It is
by no means an unusual bird in our ponds and
lakes during the spring and fall flights, and
more common in the fresh waters than on the
coast. But it is in the sloughs and lakes of the
western States and the interior of Canada west-
ward and northwestward from Hudson Bay,
where they breed in great numbers, or in the
winter months among the rice swamps of the
south, that the Widgeon is in his glory.

With us in New England most of them are
killed during the fall flights, for very little
spring shooting is done in this section. The
birds themselves move along more leisurely and
make longer stops on their fall travels than

296 FEATHERED GAME

when on their spring migrations, perhaps in
consideration of the weaker powers of the
young birds, or, having reared up their families,
they feel that they have earned a vacation and
so loiter by the way.

Rarely this bird is taken in our coast waters
during the winter months. It is mostly as a
migrant that we see it, as but few birds of this
species are believed to breed within our borders.
Still a careful search in the marshes and
swamps of our Maine lakes might perhaps
prove it a prominent citizen of those parts.
Its nest is made upon the ground and contains
from eight to ten dingy buff-colored eggs.

It is said that in the Delaware and Chesa-
peake waters the Widgeon is something of a
pirate — an unfailing and steady attendant on
the canvasback, preying upon its hard-work-
ing neighbor and depending upon it for the lux-
uries and delicacies of the feeding ground, for
the Widgeon not being an expert diver, and the
canvasback feeding mostly on the roots and
plants growing on the bottom, — especially the
wild celery, of which all the duck family are
very fond, — the Widgeon uses his neighbor's

THE WIDGEON 297

superior ability for his own benefit, snatching
the plunder the instant his victim's head ap-
pears above the water. Of course there is much
wrangling between the two upon the feeding
grounds, for no self-respecting duck can tamely
endure such high-handed treatment.

The Widgeon ranks close to the canvasback
in table qualities. Perhaps this, with some oth-
ers of the "river ducks," would rank equally
high but for the judicious advertising of the
canvasback 's good qualities by shrewd dealers.
In fact, many redheads are palmed off upon
the unsuspecting epicure as the "aristocratic
canvasback. ' '

The Widgeon likes to doze in the sun on the
sandbars and in the quiet corners of the marsh
during the day, going to the feeding grounds
at night, usually traveling in small flocks with
rapid and well sustained flight, often moving
in "company front," the central birds leading
slightly.

Very few are killed in the open water, most
meeting their fate in the early hours of the
morning at the blinds in the marshes, lured
on to their undoing by the seductive quack of

298 FEATHERED GAME

the lonesome and talkative decoy duck anchored
in an attractive ' ' pondhole. " It is not the
readiest of the ducks to decoy, however.

The Widgeon is a beautiful and graceful duck,
and by his peculiar markings will command the
admiring attention of any gunner who may cap-
ture him. In his full plumage the male bird
is marked on the top of his head with a large
area of snowy white; on the sides of the head
and neck a yellowish white, spotted and
streaked with dusky; a black patch, — in some
lights metallic green, — runs from the eye back
to the nape; the lower neck and upper breast
are light reddish brown with a purplish gloss
and sheen to the feathers, their edges a trifle
lighter than the centers ; on the sides and flanks
the same shade finely waved with indistinct
dusky crossbars.

The lower breast and under parts are pure
white; the crissum jet black against this color.
The purplish brown of the lower neck and
breast spreads over the hind neck and down the
back, waved with fine dusky lines set closely
together. The lesser wing coverts are gray,
growing lighter toward the middle and greater

THE WIDGEON 299

coverts, the last becoming pure white. The
speculum is bright metallic green set in a frame
of black. Bill narrow, pale slatey blue, with a
dusky tip and black nail; feet and legs of the
same dull blue color but somewhat darker than
bill, the webs and claws blackish. Iris brown.

The female is not so brilliantly dressed, for,
as usual among the feathered tribes, the male
bird wears the good clothes and "puts on the
style" for the family. Still, the female Wid-
geon is rather better dressed than the average
of her lady acquaintances. She lacks the white
area on the crown, the dusky streaks being car-
ried all over her head, and the reddish brown of
her neck and breast is broken up with heavier
black bars. The back is mottled with reddish
and dark brown, the red mainly on the tips and
edges of the feathers. The wing is much as in
the male though the coverts are darker and
grayer in tone. The speculum as in the male
bird. At different seasons and ages this bird
varies in its plumage but will probably be known
at once in any stage of its development by its
wing characters or the slightly lengthened tail
feathers.

300 FEATHERED GAME

The Widgeon is from eighteen to twenty-two
inches long and in extent varies from thirty to
thirty-two inches.

On rare occasions the European widgeon
visits us. The male of this species varies con-
siderably from the male of the American bird.
The principal differences in coloring of the two
species are found in the markings of the head
and neck; the Old World's representative has
the forehead and crown creamy or buffy white
and on the sides of the head and neck is marked
with rufous. There is no decided stripe of
green behind the eye, though a few spottings
of metallic color show here.

The females of the two are hardly distin-
guished from each other.

THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL.

(Nettion carolinensis.)

The Teals are among the smallest of their
tribe, and among the finest in point of food qual-
ities and in beauty of plumage. Of the three
species native to the North American continent,
two, the Green-winged and the Blue-winged, are
well known and highly esteemed by the New

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THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL 301

England gunner, and in addition to these the
family is worthily represented westward of the
backbone of our continent by the Cinnamon, or
Red-breasted Teal, formerly considered a strag-
gler from South America, but now well estab-
lished among our own birds. Rarely the Euro-
pean Teal is taken in our eastern waters. All
have the same traits in common, decoying well,
flying at great speed in compact flocks, close to
the water. Surface feeders, fastidious in their
choice of food, living on the wild grains and
seeds of the marshes and the menu of the fresh
water ponds, their flesh is second to none of
the family in tenderness and good flavor.

The Teals are said to breed readily and thrive
well in captivity. If this is so, surely their
beauty should at once find them a place with
the breeders of fancy fowl. The Green-winged
Teal is the hardier of the two eastern species,
staying in this latitude considerably later than
does the Blue-winged, being found here as late
as November, while the other rarely stays with
us later than the first of October unless the sea-
son is unusually warm. As a rule the cream
of the shooting on Blue-winged Teal is over by
the middle of September.

302 FEATHERED GAME

The rice swamps and lagoons of the southern
States are most populous with this species dur-
ing the winter months, though many go on to
the West Indies and even farther.

The breeding dress of the Green-winged drake
is a beautiful piece of coloring. The head and
upper neck a rich, bright chestnut, darkening
on the chin; a glossy patch of dark metallic
green running back from each eye and growing
deeper on the nape where the two stripes come
together among the drooping feathers of the
crest. This crest, quite pronounced at this
time, is hardly noticeable in the fall plumage.
Above, silvery gray, finely and regularly waved
with countless jet black lines. A small "half-
moon," or crescent of white, in front of each
wing — almost the only difference of plumage
between this and the European variety, which
lacks this marking. Have seen the American
Green-wing lacking the white bar mentioned,
but this is rarely so in the full plumage. If
this mark is missing and the inner tertials are
creamy white it is probable that the specimen
is a stray from the Old World. Primaries and
wing coverts brownish gray. Speculum a rich
dark green, changeable and lustrous. Neck and

THE GREEN- WINGED TEAL 303

upper breast a beautiful buff tint with numer-
ous black "polka dots" scattered through it,
these growing fewer and fainter below, and the
buff fading gradually into a grayish white, on
the flanks finely pencilled with regular lines of
black. Crissum black with buff both before and
behind it. Bill black; iris brown; feet dull
bluish.

The females of our own species and of the
European race are not to be distinguished
apart. Our bird may average a trifle larger.
The female is not crested and is much less show-
ily dressed. Head and neck light yellowish
brown, finely streaked with black. Above, mot-
tled with yellow, brown and black. Below gray-
ish, with buff shadings and dusky specklings on
the breast. In her other coloring she is nearly
like the male.

"With these, as is generally the case with the
duck tribe, the greater number breed beyond
the boundaries of the United States, through
the lake country of Canada, anywhere east of
the Rockies, though where conditions are suit-
able they are fairly numerous during the nest-
ing season in the northernmost States. The
nest is made upon the ground; a slight affair

304 FEATHERED GAME

of weeds and dry grass lined with feathers.
This generally contains in the neighborhood of
eight eggs, of a dull, grayish green color.

The Green-winged Teal is common all over
eastern North America, perhaps less numerous
beyond the Rockies and on the Pacific Coast,
and is of casual occurrence in Europe.

THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL.

(Querquedula discors.)

In habits and mode of life this species is al-
most identical with the green-winged teal. It
is a trifle larger and a little more southerly in
its range. The "Blue-wing" is seldom seen
west of the Rockies except as it straggles to the
extreme northern part of its habitat.

The drake is a showy bird. His wedding
clothes are a credit to himself and to his tailor.
His head is dark slatey brown with a sheen of
purple to the feathers; the crown darkening
with fine dusky markings. A large crescent of
white with its points extending backward in
front of each eye. (This is lacking in the fall
plumage.) Lower hind neck and upper part of
the back blackish, the back mottled with black,

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THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL 305

brownish and dull yellow, this last color on the
edges of the feathers. Lower part of the back
and rump dusky, as are also the tail feathers.
Wing coverts a very light and beautiful shade
of blue, some of the scapulars also showing the
same shade as well as jet black and golden yel-
low in stripes lengthwise upon the feathers.
Speculum a dark, glossy green, set off by the
white of the greater coverts. Wing quills dark
brownish. Under parts brownish yellow with
countless jet black spots on the throat and
breast, these growing less numerous, larger in
size and of less decided color below. Crissum
black ; patch of white on each side of the rump.
Bill leaden black. Feet a dull, pale yellow with
dusky webs and nails. Iris brown. The sea-
sonal changes in its plumage are not very
marked, the lack of the white crescent in the
drake's face in the fall being the most radical.
For the female, above she is marked much
like her mate, having the same bright blue on
the wing coverts, the striping of the scapulars
and the green speculum. She is perhaps less
decidedly colored and spotted below, though the
main differences lie in the markings of the head
and neck, — these being dull brownish yellow

306 FEATHERED GAME

with blackish and brownish streaks. She is
readily distinguished from any other duck which
is likely to fall into the hands of the eastern
gunner, though where the cinnamon teal is
found it might pass for the female of that spe-
cies if not closely examined, since they are much
alike except for the ruddier color of Mrs. Cin-
namon on the breast and below, and the dusky
patch on her chin.

The length of this bird averages between fif-
teen and sixteen inches, and the extent from
twenty-five to twenty-seven; as may be seen, a
trifle larger than the "green-wing."

These are mostly dwellers in the fresh water,
rarely venturing upon the sea except during the
migrations. Their flesh ranks high among the
waterfowl, being one of the best ducks which
find their way to the table. Their breeding
habits are as the "green-wing's," nesting near-
ly throughout the range of that species, and in
addition to that they breed among the West
Indies and in Central America and Mexico.
They winter from the central United States to
central South America.

Their flight is surprisingly swift and power-
ful considering their small size. Not all their

THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL 307

larger brethren can equal them in speed, and if
they chance to join a flock of larger ducks the
big fellows must keep moving or the Teal will
show them the road. Estimates of the speed
of ducks set the record for the teals at one hun-
dred miles an hour, — probably as liberal as
most estimates.

About the time of the first frost or about the
full of the moon in September, the Blue-winged
Teal begins to migrate to the southland for the
winter. At this time the movement is general
and by October first scarcely a Blue-wing is
cleaving New England's skies. For a week or
ten days at most the flight is on and during the
early morning hours or just about sundown
those spots which present attractions to the
black duck are apt to receive a call from his
small cousins, the teals. They will mix with
any duck company they chance to meet, are less
suspicious than almost any others of the family,
come readily to wooden decoys, and a "talking"
black duck toler is a sure enough winner with
them. They thus afford great sport to the wild-
fowler and are very popular with all that
brotherhood whose favorite regalia are hip-
boots and old clothes, and whose chief joys in

308 FEATHERED GAME

life are "sink-boxes," "gun-punts," "ten-
bores," and duck-calls.

These kill much easier than do most ducks, —
No. 8 shot is plenty large enough for them —
and they are worthy of a place on any man's
table when well cooked, or in his cabinet when
properly stuffed — the two principal reasons
for their rapid decrease in our streams and
marshes.

These, too, are said to thrive well under do-
mestication, though rather less hardy than the
' ' green-wings. ' '

THE SHOVELER, OR SPOONBILL DUCK.

(Spatula clypeata.)

The Spoonbill Duck is less hardy than the
average of our waterfowl, preferring more
southern latitudes. It is a species of wide dis-
persion, having its representatives in nearly
every quarter of the world.

This duck is mainly a dweller in the fresh
water, only rare stragglers visiting the ocean
and then mostly in the migrations. One of the
most graceful among the waterfowl and a very
beautiful bird is the Shoveler. Its flight is

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THE SHOVELER 309

powerful, swift and well sustained. As to its
qualities as a table bird it is among the best.

With us it is a very uncommon visitor, par-
ticularly in the northern New England States,
like many another of the duck tribe, thinking
but little of our territory. The most of them
choose the western and southern parts of our
country for their homes. Have known of a
small flock being killed in the limits of the city
of Portland, Me., in the salt water, another on
one of the outer chain of islands on our coast,
and to these must be added the specimens from
which our drawing was made, shot on the Fal-
mouth shore near Portland, in the waters of
Casco Bay, and which are now in my collection ;
apparently this is the total for a period of ten
years. In the beauty of their plumage, bril-
liancy and perfection of their coloring these
last two are the equals of any specimens which
I have seen in any collection. I do not think
it will average one Shoveler a year that is
taken in this locality, otherwise a good duck
country.

The Shovelers breed throughout their range,
— in the New World from the central United
States over the prairies to the Saskatchewan,

310 FEATHERED GAME

making their nests on the ground, of grass and
dry moss, and ordinarily lay from six to eight
eggs ; these usually are of a pale grayish green
color. They winter along the southeast and
Gulf coasts of the United States, the West In-
dies and northern South America.

The drake in his spring suit is a brilliant and
showy bird, his shapely form set off by bright
and sharply contrasted colors. His head and
neck are dark green, glossy and beautiful with
the sheen of purple and violet. Lower neck, up-
per part of the back and breast pure white, in
front just rusted with the faintest tinge of cin-
namon from below. The wing coverts sky blue,
darkening toward the greater, those margining
the speculum pure white. Scapulars blue on
the outer webs, striped with black and white on
the inner half. Some of the shorter scapulars
are white. Speculum green. Rump and tail
coverts both above and below are black, or a
rich dark green as the light happens to strike
them. There is a white spot on each side at
the root of the tail. Below, lower breast and
abdomen deep chestnut with a purplish bloom
to the feathers. On the flanks a few fine dusky
lines across the tips of the feathers. Wing

THE SHOVELER 311

quills and central feathers of the tail dusky;
outer tail feathers silvery gray or white. Bill
blackish, about two and three-quarters inches
long and one and one-quarter inches wide at the
broadest part which is near the tip. Feet light
orange and small in proportion to the size of the
bird, as becomes an aristocrat among water-
fowl. Iris bright orange, almost red, in the
male ; in the female yellow.

The female is not widely different from the
female mallard in her coloring except for the
bluish cast of the wing coverts, but, of course,
may be at once distinguished by the remarkable
bill. Her wing markings are much like the
drake's though not quite so brilliant. Head and
neck brownish yellow with dusky specklings.
Throat pale buff. Faint traces of the chestnut
below. Feet and legs paler than male's.

These birds in their breeding dress are not
common here ; as they are usually taken in the
fall, the only legitimate shooting season, they
are not nearly so brilliant as when in the spring
plumage, the fall dress being a much soberer
suit than the wedding garments. Perhaps
the bird's own mood has taken on a different
hue.

312 FEATHERED GAME

The length of this species is from seventeen
to twenty inches; the extent from thirty-two to
thirty-five inches.

THE PINTAIL. THE SPEIGTAIL.

(Dafila acuta.)

It is a great pity that we so seldom capture
the Pintail, for he is one of the most beautiful
of the ducks as well as a fine bird at the table.
He is a great favorite with the sportsman wher-
ever he is found, for the high order of shooting
skill necessary to stop him in his flight is justly
appreciated.

There is no member of the duck tribe so
gracefully made or built upon such clipper lines
as is this bird and he is one of the fleetest of
wing of all his family. When under way he is
indeed a flyer, going at a remarkable rate of
speed. The Pintail's flight will at once remind
the bay gunner of that of the "old squaw," so
well known along the Atlantic coast. The same
chain lightning speed and darting and wheeling
evolutions are common to both species. The
speed of either of these is far greater than the

THE PINTAIL 313

average duck can hope to attain, for estimates
give both birds credit for ability to make ninety
miles an hour!

Shy and cautious in the extreme, the Pintails
are seldom caught napping, and seem to have
but one failing in their tactics: They are apt
to become confused if suddenly alarmed, when
the flock bunches closely as they jump straight
up into the air, leaping from earth or water as
though thrown up by a powder blast, just as the
black duck does when it starts up from the
marsh in a hurry. This is the one time when
the Pintail is ungraceful, with his long neck
cork-screwing and almost tying itself into knots
in his excitement. If wounded it is a very skill-
ful skulker, and while not a great submarine
navigator, can, by partially immersing its body
and laying its long neck down on the water, the
tactics of a wounded goose, disclaim any inten-
tion of attracting unnecessary notice to its
movements. It is wary about coming to decoys
and usually makes several circuits of the neigh-
borhood in search of the reason for the tolers'
presence before trusting them implicitly. In
fact, since good company always benefits, the

314 FEATHERED GAME

Pintail learns caution and is otherwise mentally
improved by his intimate acquaintance with the
black duck.

The bird is a delicate and cleanly feeder. It
gets its food in the shallows, in its endeavors
to bring hidden good things to the surface, put-
ting its long neck down to the bottom and wrig-
gling its sternpost in the air as the rules of
" river duck" table etiquette compel. Its own
choice of food is small frogs, vegetable matter
and the delicacies of the marsh dweller's bill
of fare.

The Pintail is much more common on the
fresh water of the interior and throughout the
western country generally than on the coast line
of New England. Save during the migrations
it is rarely seen on the salt water, yet the speci-
mens from which the accompanying drawing
was made were killed in some of the severest
winter weather in the swell of the broad Atlan-
tic. They were shot at night from a flock of
seven as they flew past a rocky islet where two
gunners were creeping upon some black ducks
which were feeding by moonlight. During the
same week a few mallard drakes were killed in
the same neighborhood, these, too, in full breed-

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THE PINTAIL 315

ing plumage. The Pintails were great mys-
teries to the fishermen-gunners who shot them.
They were the first of that species that they had
seen in nearly forty years of gunning on the
coast, where deep water ducks had been their
principal game.

The Pintail breeds from the northern States
of the Union as far to the north, probably, as
does any duck of the fresh water. It is a citi-
zen of almost any part of the northern hemi-
sphere and wherever found is much prized by
duck shooters. Though not considered numer-
ous anywhere in the east, certainly their most
natural dwelling place would be in the lakes
and ponds of the Maine woods where they may
be more abundant in the breeding season than
generally supposed. It winters on the coast
line of the South Atlantic States, and on the
Gulf coast to Central America.

In the acquaintance of most gunners, aside
from the seaf owl, which from their greater num-
bers are better known, there are very few kinds
of ducks ; and in this somewhat uncertain knowl-
edge any webfoot of doubtful pedigree, which
is not plainly wood duck, black duck, mallard
or teal, is lumped into the general family of

316 FEATHERED GAME

"gray duck." This may mean the gadwall,
(when they get him, which is all too seldom
here) pintail, widgeon, even the "ruddy," and,
were it not that nature has named him so plainly
in giving him his chestnut braincase, the red-
head, too, would have been placed in the same
category. It is not uncommon to have a gunner
mention "so many (or perhaps it should be 'so
few') gray ducks" in enumerating the results
of his day's shooting, and in most cases when
the bird is produced it proves to be a female
or a young male Pintail.

In the favored regions of the West where the
spring and fall nights of ducks are made in
flocks of thousands, and where the shallow pools
and prairie lakes are often nearly hidden by
the companies of winged tourists, the Pintail
is one of the most common birds. It is dis-
tributed all over the North American continent
and is also found in corresponding latitudes of
Europe and Asia, — a universal favorite.

To the average man, whose acquaintance with
the duck family is confined to the noisy wad-
dlers seen in the horse-ponds and barnyards
through the rural districts, the agile grace and
lithe movements of their wild relatives would

THE PINTAIL 317

be a revelation. The beautiful plumage and
trim lines of the wildfowl would surprise him
greatly. Among these the Pintail drake is in
the front rank. He is a beautiful fellow with a
brilliant though not gaudy dress. His head and
upper neck are a deep brown, showing in differ-
ent lights a bronze-like sheen with glossy green
and purple tints. A line of snowy white run-
ning up on the back of the neck on each side
of the central strip of black which extends
downward into the gray of the back and wing
coverts. Lower neck in front, breast and under
parts of snowy whiteness, save on the flanks
where there are fine dusky pencillings as on the
back, and the crissum which is jet black, sharply
and cleanly defined against the surrounding
white. Back silvery gray or whitish, finely and
evenly barred with irregular wavy black lines.
The scapulars and tertiaries striped lengthwise
with black, whitish and silver gray. Speculum
a greenish- or coppery-violet, framed about in
black, tawny and white borders. Tail feathers
yellowish gray, long central feathers black. In
length the bird varies from twenty-five to thirty
inches, according to the development of the tail
feathers. In extent he is from thirty-four to

318 FEATHERED GAME

thirty-six inches. Iris brown. Feet bluish
gray with dusky webs. Bill blackish. During
the moulting season he puts on a dress like the
female's but darker and still showing the copj
pery speculum.

The female is smaller and less showily
dressed ; principally dull yellowish brown for a
body color, this mottled with dark brown and
dusky, the dark colors on the centres of the
feathers. Speculum of duller tones, and but
little different from other feathering of the
wing, perhaps from its less attractive setting.
She lacks the lengthened feathers of the tail but
may be known at once by her slender neck and
race-horse lines. In his first season the young
drake, as the country people say, " takes after
his mother," and aside from his lustrous specu-
lum is hard to distinguish from her.

THE WOOD DUCK. BRIDAL DUCK.
SUMMER DUCK.

(Aix sponsa.)

Among the waterfowl of all America the lit-
tle Wood Duck may claim the precedence of
grace and beauty. Few birds indeed may equal

THE WOOD DUCK 319

him in elegance of form and motion, and none
of our other ducks can compare with him in
beautiful coloring and plumage. Except the
mandarin duck of the far east no member of the
family approaches him in the rainbow bright-
ness of his hues. They nest anywhere through-
out the United States and a little beyond to the
north.

They bred in abundance in the lake region
of Maine, and were surely second in point of
numbers in these waters as elsewhere on the
fresh water in New England, only the black duck
being more numerous. I say were, for they
have become greatly reduced in numbers within
the last few years. This is, no doubt, in great
measure due to their "fatal gift of beauty,"
though their flesh, also, has a flavor that is deli-
cate beyond that of most wild fowl. They have
become so scarce that it seems that shooting
them should be prohibited for a term of years
if we would prevent their total extinction. Let
us act before it is too late, and so prevent this
irreparable loss.

These little creatures still brighten with their
presence some of our inland streams, flitting
with graceful ease among the interlacing

320 FEATHERED GAME

branches of spruce and alder where you scarce
would think a bird could pass, or walking among
the boughs as lightly and as blithely as any of
the small warblers. Beneath flows the sluggish
current along whose shady edges, in waving cat-
tails or rankly growing grass is an abundance
of the food they love best.

The traveler on our summer lakes, paddling
his noiseless way over still waters and along
forest-margined shores, when he comes sudden-
ly into their bends and coves may chance upon
the family comfortably snuggling down on a
fallen tree reaching out into the water. The
congregation is apt to disperse without cere-
mony— those ashore running into the woods,
those on the log or water rising into the air with
clatter and startled cries, shooting over the tree-
tops like stray fragments of a rainbow, — and
in two seconds he is alone with only a few idly
drifting feathers in the ripples on the water to
tell of his departed friends. Soon they will
drop back over the encircling woods in twos
and threes to revisit their favorite resting place.

Perhaps if you have lived in ' ' the back coun-
try" of New England, in the months of April
and May you have had the good fortune to see

THE WOOD DUCK 321

the Wood Ducks come and search the forest for
suitable places for their homes. It may be that,
closely hidden, silent, motionless, and scarcely
breathing lest you disturb the beautiful visitors,
you have watched the birds flit from tree to tree
along the watercourse; have seen them peep
into the hollows of the dead stubs to see if the
interiors were dry, cosy and suitable to hold
the treasures which their fond hopes promise
them. Anxious and eager, they squeeze their
lithe bodies through each narrow opening and
inspect the inner chambers with all the care of
a newly-made bride on her first "house-hunt-
ing" expedition, and when at last one finds a
spot which seems fitting how quickly it is com-
municated to the other! At once the two set
to work to furnish the snug little home, enlarg-
ing the entrance and smoothing down interior
angles and corners. Soon all is prepared to re-
ceive the eggs, and anon the full number is
ready for the hatching. This plucky little
knight, ordinarily the gentlest of creatures, is
now brimful of fight if he is disturbed in his
home by any other of his kind, and there is a
good prospect for trouble if the intruder does
not leave at once.

322 FEATHERED GAME

When the ducklings have arrived and gained
a little strength the parent bird takes them in
her beak and carries them to the nearest pond,
unless, as is often the case, the nest overhangs
the water, when she saves herself this trouble
by simply pushing them overboard. Then she
shows them how to get a living. There are
often a dozen in a family, so that it is fortunate
that they have only to reach out and take what
they want to eat, otherwise the mother might
have a hard time of it in providing for her nu-
merous progeny, for the male bird usually de-
serts his mate at this time, leaving to her all the
family cares. The drake spends the summer
moulting season away from home with other
recreant husbands, and is hardly to be recog-
nized as the same gaudy bird of the spring.

About the first of September, the young birds
having by this time become well grown and
strong and the males again joining the flocks,
the Wood Ducks begin to scatter about from
their breeding grounds, a few at a time, the
main body waiting until colder weather forces
them from their summer homes, when they start
for their winter quarters in the southern tiers
of States, occasionally going beyond. They

THE WOOD DUCK 323

seldom unite in any large flocks, the number
generally ranging from ten to twelve in a bunch,
the little party commonly consisting of one fam-
ily. Our little bird is rather exclusive; know-
ing his high position in waterfowl society he
will seldom travel with any other species and
rarely notices decoys.

They are not so hardy and "hard-lived"
as most of the ducks, but when "wing-tipped"
are most difficult to capture, especially in the
brushy streams, diving and making their way
under water to the shore, then running stealth-
ily away, — like the black duck, often hiding in
holes in the ground or crawling into brush-
heaps, — so that unless a dog is on their track
they will commonly escape.

The flesh of this bird is the tenderest and
sweetest of any of the duck family, and they are
usually extremely fat in the fall after their sum-
mer's diet of frogs, snails, grains and the ten-
der shoots of the water plants.

It is rarely that a Wood Duck is taken on the
salt water, though often visiting the fresh ponds
on the seashore. In one place which has more
Wood Ducks to its credit than any other in our
neighborhood the pond in which they are shot is

324 FEATHERED GAME

not more than four hundred yards from the
open ocean, placed at the end of a rocky cape
that projects far out into the sea, and because
of this situation it is a noted stopping place for
wildfowl of all kinds.

The drake in his breeding dress is attired
thus: head and crest dark green, irridescent
with changeable purple hues; a fine line of
white from bill above the eye to the back of the
head; another from the eye to the nape; an
area of white on the chin and throat, spreading
on each side of the head and dividing, one
branch going upward behind the eye, the other
almost meeting its fellow on the other side, thus
nearly encircling the neck. The dark colors of
the head and crest running down the back of
the neck into the dark brownish green and pur-
plish tinges of the back. Speculum green.
Scapulars glossy black, purplish and green with
the change of view point; primaries purplish,
whitening on the outer webs near the tips.
Eump and tail coverts glossy black. Some long
plumes of deep crimson shade at the sides of the
base of the tail. The lower throat and breast
deep purplish chestnut, growing paler as it
merges into the white of the under parts, and

THE WOOD DUCK 325

dotted with innumerable broad arrowheads of
white, arranged in regular order, growing
larger and more numerous as the chestnut shade
grows paler until thus the entire area has be-
come white. A large crescent of white in front
of the wing, this edged with jet black. Below
pure white, the sides growing pale yellow, finely
waved with black, these lines becoming broader
and darker toward the flanks, where the ends
of the flank feathers are finished with broad
zones of black and white. Bill pale pinkish,
bright red at the base, black at the nail and
along the ridge. Feet orange ; iris red. Many
specimens taken in October are as brightly col-
ored as in the spring months. Have seen many
adult males in the fall as brilliant as when in
their wedding dress.

The female is not so beautiful as her mate,
having little or no crest, although the feathers
on the nape are somewhat elongated. No such
brilliancy of marking on the back or wings, the
purple being much duller in hue. Head and
neck grayish brown, darkening on the crown;
chin, near base of bill and around the eyes,
whitish. Below yellowish brown mottled with
dusky ; belly growing white. Bill dusky. Feet

326 FEATHERED GAME

a dull dusky yellow, webs even darker. Even
though plainer in dress than her mate she is
withal a beautiful duck.

The length of this species averages from
eighteen to twenty inches; extent from twenty-
six to twenty-eight inches.

The Wood Duck is said to breed readily in
captivity and to be easily domesticated. It
should surely become very popular among
breeders of fancy fowl because of its beautiful
plumage if for no other reason.

THE RED-HEAD.

(Aythya americana.)

Not often is the Red-head taken in northern
New England waters; a little more common
along the southern coast, and gradually in-
creasing in numbers southward until in the
Chesapeake and Delaware bays it is one of the
commonest of the ducks. It is found during
some season of the year more or less abun-
dantly all over North America and is every-
where held in highest esteem.

The breeding birds are generally at home in
the far north, mainly to the west and northwest

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THE RED-HEAD 327

of Hudson Bay, the great duck nursery of the
New World, though a comparatively small
number breed in the northern States of the
Union, and in the Rocky Mountain region much
farther south. There is small doubt that many
birds, especially of the duck tribe, which are
credited with breeding only in the far-off north,
occasionally nest in the cool heights of the
mountains in much lower latitudes.

Closely resembling the canvasback in appear-
ance and fully equal to this much-lauded bird
in table qualities when the same opportunities
are given, the Red-head is often sold in the mar-
kets as his highly esteemed relative. The like-
ness between the two birds might, indeed, de-
ceive the casual observer, but no one at all fa-
miliar with them should ever mistake one for
the other. The short bill, rounded and high-
arched skull of americana, together with the
somewhat puffy appearance of the feathers of
its head, are widely different from the long,
sloping profile of the canvasback, where the
lines of the bill and head are nearly one. The
Red-head is also considerably darker in his gen-
eral coloration and has an orange-yellow iris.
The canvasback 's iris is red. Still the pur-

328 FEATHERED GAME

chaser has no cause for complaint at the Red-
head's food qualities. In the waters where the
Red-head and canvasback are most eagerly
sought and where the latter has won its high
reputation as a dainty bit for the table their
diet of wild celery is in the main responsible
for their excellence of flesh. Let us notice that
the Red-head is equally as good as the canvas-
back in these places and on the same food, and
that neither one is to be preferred before some
of the "river ducks" in other localities where
the wild celery has been omitted from Mother
Nature's menu. Why should not the widgeon
also rank as high? From his predatory habits
he lives as well as either one of them in celery
time.

The Red-head is eagerly hunted in all the
waters where it is found. It comes readily to
decoys and it is over these that most of them
are shot. They kill hard and will carry off a
heavy dose of lead. A wounded bird should be
finished at once, for a cripple is nearly always
lost to the gunner who permits it to get under
water, as the Red-head is a good swimmer and
expert as a diver, though falling far short of
the submarine performances of various ducks

THE RED-HEAD 329

more strictly to be termed "sea ducks," and
somewhat contemptuously called "trash ducks"
or even "flying fishes," by the more aristo-
cratic among wildfowlers.

This is one of the commonest of the ducks
in the wild rice sloughs of the West, and it is
often shot in the immense corn- and grain-
fields of those sections, which they visit to feed
upon the ripened seeds. They will fly long dis-
tances to get a corn dinner. Though, when it
may choose, the Red-head is a vegetable feeder,
if a breakfast of this sort is not to be had the
bird will content itself with a meal of young
frogs or tadpoles if it can find them. He is
mainly a diving fowl and a bottom feeder, espe-
cially so in the waters of the northeast, where
as a rule we know him as a salt water dweller,
or at least a bird of the river mouths.

They arrive in these latitudes during late
September or October, staying until the increas-
ing cold has effectually closed all fresh water
for the winter, when they come into the coast
waters, working their way southward to remain
until the spring sunshine opens again their
feeding grounds in the north. This species is
more numerous on the eastern half of our con-

330 FEATHERED GAME

tinent, though fairly abundant on the Pacific
coast during the winter months.

The Red-head breeds far north in the Fur
Countries making its nest upon the ground
and lining it with down and soft grass. The
number of eggs is usually eight, in color pale
buff.

In plumage the drake is the finer of the pair.
His head and neck are a bright chestnut red
with a sheen as of burnished copper. Lower
neck, breast, upper back, rump, and tail coverts
above and below are blackish. Back bluish
gray, finely waved all over with blackish lines.
Flanks and sides much like the back but more
faintly marked. For the rest below, grayish
white. "Wing coverts bluish gray. Speculum
ashy gray. Inside of the wings mostly white.
Wing quills and tail feathers dull bluish gray
or dusky. Bill rather short, broad and flat-
tened at the end as compared with the canvas-
back's, in color dull bluish with a black band
across the tip. Iris of male orange ; of the fe-
male yellow. Feet dull bluish with dusky webs
and black nails.

The female is marked much like the male, but
the head and neck are of dull brownish hue,

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THE CANVASBACK 331

grayer on the cheeks and behind the eyes. The
back, also is more brownish in tone.

The length of this species is from nineteen
to twenty-one inches ; the extent from thirty to
thirty-two inches.

THE CANVASBACK.

(Aythya vallisneria.)

The duck slayer of New England will have
little acquaintance with this bird unless he is
lucky enough to travel west or south for his
shooting, for this fowl of savory reputation is
a very unusual sight in our home waters.
Widely dispersed, dwelling in nearly every part
of North America, they avoid New England and
the northeastern corner of our continent very
carefully, as do so many other feathered mi-
grants, so that we of these sections must con-
tent ourselves with other game, for there is
small likelihood of our getting a chance at the
"aristocratic Canvasback."

Of its life and habits, aside from its shot-
dodging during the fall and winter, we know
very little save that it occasionally nests in the
northern States of the Union, in California, and

332 FEATHEEED GAME

at various points among the Rocky mountains.
The greater number nest far away in the north,
perhaps even to the shores of the Arctic seas.
It is a very fine bird from the sportsman's
standpoint, usually decoying well, always fly-
ing fast and carrying lead off bravely.

About the month of October the Canvasbacks
begin to arrive in the waters of the Atlantic
seaboard and scatter all along the coast line
from Long Island Sound to Texas. Some few
even go to Central America. These birds keep
together in large flocks both in the migrations
and on the feeding grounds. They are said to
be very wary and difficult of approach, placing
sentinels during their resting and their feeding
hours. They are expert swimmers and in their
feeding they dive constantly, getting nearly all
their food from the bottom. They can swim
long distances beneath the surface, and, like
the "surf-" and "sea-ducks," dive instantly
when wounded, in an attempt to escape under
water.

These are probably the most highly valued
by the sportsman of any of the duck family.
When after a season of feeding on the "wild
celery" their flesh .is in prime condition they

THE CANVASBACK 333

may deserve the praise accorded them, but many
epicures will tell us that there are several of
the " river ducks" of far greater merit when
all are confined to the usual duck diet. In such
case the Canvasback is said to be a very ordi-
nary table bird.

This species is marked much like the redhead ;
the shape of the bill and head differing, and the
general tone of the bird's plumage is lighter.
The bill of the Canvasback is blackish, as long
or longer than the head, high at the base and
rather narrow throughout its entire length.
The line of the profile of bill and head are al-
most one, in contrast to the bulging forehead
and arching crest of the redhead. For his col-
oring, the male has a red head, — lacking the
loose-feathered and puffy appearance of his
cousin's topnot, — the color brownish in tone,
with none of the coppery lustre shown by the
redhead ; the same color extends down over the
upper neck; on the crown and about the base
of the bill darkening to dusky brown. Above,
a light silver gray or whitish, with fine black
lines across the feathers, here closely resem-
bling the redhead, as also on the lower neck,
breast and upper back, the colors of wing and

334 FEATHERED GAME

body both above and below lighter than in the
redhead. Iris red; feet grayish blue.

The female's head is colored a dingy brown.
She is everywhere duller in tone and plainer in
dress than is her lord. She resembles in a
marked degree the female redhead, but may at
once be distinguished, if there is any doubt as
to identity, by the shape and color of her bill
and her red-brown iris, which is not so decid-
edly red as in the male.

The length of this species is about twenty-one
inches; the extent varies from thirty-one to
thirty-three inches.

GREATER BLUEBILL. BROADBILL.

(Aythya marila.)

The dark, close-flying flocks of the Scaup
Ducks are among the first arrivals on our coast
with the approach of winter. Common enough
in the months of cold weather and less suspi-
cious of the gunner than the average waterfowl,
this guilelessness often works to their disadvan-
tage, so that our markets are usually well sup-
plied with them. Their flesh is held in fair es-
teem. When they have fed on a vegetable diet

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GREATER BLUEBILL 335

they are equal to most ducks as a table delicacy,
and even when forced to live upon the coarser
food from the salt water their flesh does not be-
come so rank as that of many other species
under like conditions. A report showing the
number of these birds which are served as can-
vasbacks would probably furnish some surpris-
ing statistics.

Inhabiting the whole northern hemisphere,
and mostly breeding in the remote wastes of the
Arctic regions, the Greater Scaup Ducks, or
Greater Bluebills, pass the winter season in
warmer latitudes, wandering alongshore as far
as the Middle States and in the interior going
even farther toward warm weather. In the Old
World they winter in southern Europe and cen-
tral Asia.

Their nests are made upon the ground in the
fashion common to the ducks, of moss and soft
grasses, and ordinarily contain eight grayish-
green or drab-colored eggs. They seldom
breed within the borders of the United States
and are not often found here earlier than the
latter half of October.

Their table during the winter season is sup-

336 FEATHERED GAME

plied with the mussels and animal food to be
had in deep water, therefore of necessity they
are expert swimmers and divers, and though
apparently slow and heavy in getting under
way, are strong and swift in flight.

During the migrations many are killed
throughout the west, though the Greater Blue-
bill is as a rule less numerous in the interior
of the country than is the smaller species.
When these inland haunts are frozen up they
betake themselves to the coast waters where
the work of destruction goes on until the spring
opens up their only safe abode under the Arctic
skies.

With us of the northeast most of the Blue-
bills are killed from the ''gunning float," the
gunner clad in a white suit and the little craft
itself "dressed down" to the water's edge with
snow and ice to represent a floating ice cake.
It is no wonder that the poor victims are "de-
ludered," for it needs sharp eyes and close at-
tention to make out anything dangerous in an
object so harmless in appearance. There is
commonly little trouble in approaching within
easy range of a flock if the gunner is skilled in
handling his craft, but to get within shot reach

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LESSER BLUEBILL 337

is not all, for any duck which can last out the
New England winter will carry off a good load
of shot, as the bird must have an abundance of
vitality and an extra heavy suit of underwear
to endure the climate. Both these our hero has.
The Bluebill comes readily to decoys of almost
any species of ducks, and fair shooting may
often be had from a blind.

LESSER BLUEBILL.

(Aythya affinis.)

There are two species of this family, the
Greater and the Lesser Scaup. The little fel-
low is a counterpart of his big brother, and for
some time the naturalists of our country were
in doubt as to the propriety of considering more
than one species, but the final decision has been
that the Small Bluebill is properly distinct.

The Lesser Scaup is southern in its range,
breeding quite commonly in suitable localities
in the west, and is known in many districts as
the "Black Jack." It is possible that some
nest in New England's remote corners. They
are not uncommon here during the breeding
season. In its winter travels this species goes
a long way farther into the south than does

338 FEATHERED GAME

marila, for while many sojourn along the coasts
of the Middle Atlantic States others spend this
season among the West India islands or in Cen-
tral America. It is my impression that the
Lesser Scaup is more often a dweller in the in-
terior than on the salt water; certainly there
are ten Greater Scaups taken in Casco and
Merrymeeting bays to one of the smaller spe-
cies. In nesting habits, mode of life and plum-
age markings the two are almost identical.
The Lesser Scaup is entirely American, while
the Greater Bluebill is a dweller in the Old
World as well.

For their markings one description will ap-
ply to both birds, the only difference in their
coloring being in the shade of the head — in the
Greater Bluebill the gloss is greenish; in the
Lesser the irridescence gleaming through the
black is purplish. The head, neck, breast and
upper parts of the back are black. Back, scap-
ulars, sides and flanks waved with zig-zag pat-
terns in fine black lines on a silvery gray
ground. Wing coverts of darker hue and less
clearly marked, otherwise like the back. Spec-
ulum white in a black frame. Bill rather

LESSER BLUEBILL 339

broad, dull blue in color, and with a black nail.
I think the bill of the Lesser Scaup averages
proportionately wider than that of the larger
species. Feet leaden blue with dusky or nearly
black webs. Iris yellow.

The female not greatly different from her
mate, the jet black areas of the head and fore
parts of the body of the maLe bird fading to a
dusky brown in her plumage. A whitish patch
at the base of the bill. Black and white wavy
lines of back less distinctly shown. Flanks
brown, the feathers edged with whitish.

The length of the Greater Scaup ranges from
eighteen to twenty inches; the extent from
thirty-two to thirty-four inches. In the Lesser
Scaup the length varies from fifteen to seven-
teen and the extent from twenty-seven to thirty
inches.

In New England the Greater Bluebill is the
more common bird; further south the small
variety is about equally numerous.

These birds are also known as Black-Heads,
Raft Ducks, and Shufflers. The name, ' ' Scaup
Duck," comes from their feeding on "scaup,"
broken shells and mussels.

340 FEATHERED GAME

THE RING-NECKED DUCK.

(Aythya collaris.)

Closely allied to the two last is the Ring-
necked Duck. About a medium between them
in size and inhabiting the same range of coun-
try; breeding from the northern part of the
United States into the Arctic regions, and in
their winter migrations often traveling to the
West Indies.

They build their nests on the ground, lining
a shallow hollow with moss and dry grass, and
in this lay their complement of eggs, usually
eight in number, in color a light greenish. This
species is not at all common in New England
and is less numerous throughout the whole of
its range than are the Scaups. I doubt if an
average of one Ring-necked Duck a year is
killed in the State of Maine.

Its markings are as follows : Head and neck
of brilliant bluish- or purplish-black, with a
slight crest. Around the neck a collar of deep
orange brown or chestnut; lower neck and up-
per breast blackish. Above blackish, scapulars
faintly waved with gray. Wings dusky brown ;

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THE WHISTLER 341

speculum ashy bluish or grayish. Below mostly
white; belly and flanks waved with black; cris-
sum black. Bill black, edges, base and a belt
across near the tip bluish gray. Feet bluish
gray with black webs. Iris yellow.

The female has no collar. Where the male is
black she is brownish. Wing and speculum the
same as in the male. The bluish gray color of
the speculum is the main point of difference be-
tween the female of this species and the females
of the Scaups, whose speculum is white, al-
though females of the present species may be
slightly browner above and on the flanks.

Length of the Eing-necked Duck from sixteen
to eighteen inches; extent from twenty-eight to
thirty inches.

THE WHISTLER. GOLDEN-EYED DUCK.

(Clangula americana.)

This duck is from fifteen to eighteen inches
in length and weighs from two to two and one-
half pounds. The head and upper part of the
neck are rich, dark green — in some lights al-
most black, in others glossy and metallic in its
lustre. A spot of white on each side at the base

342 FEATHERED GAME

of the bill, nearly circular in form. The crest
feathers are long and fluffy, erected at will.
The whole feathering of the head is somewhat
puffy. Back and much of the wings are black,
though some of the secondaries and coverts are
white and seem to make quite a band of this
color in the wing. Under parts white. Long
flank feathers white with a broad edging of
black. Rump and tail black. Bill greenish
black. Feet and legs orange with dusky webs
and black nails. Iris bright golden yellow,
whence the name, "Golden-eyed Duck."

The female is a trim little lady with neat and
becoming attire. Her head dark chestnut or
brown. A white ring about the neck, and below
this a second circle of blue-gray coming up
from the color of the back. Below white, grow-
ing dusky on the flanks. Wings and upper
works generally, covered with grayish blue, the
edges of the feathers whitish. Speculum white.
Bill dusky brown, yellow-tipped. Iris as in the
male. The female averages much smaller than
the male.

They are abundant throughout North Amer-
ica, and while ranging in winter to the West In-
dies and Mexico are rather more common in the

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THE WHISTLER 343

higher latitudes, and in New England are most
numerous during the cold weather when they
are driven from the north country, and on our
bays and inner coast line they are the most
common ducks of the winter months. The spe-
cies is widely distributed, ranging all through
the northern hemisphere — a citizen of Europe,
Asia and America. While the Old World va-
riety may average a trifle smaller it is proba-
bly the same bird.

The Whistler nests all the way from New
England's latitude into the Arctic Circle, or at
least, as far north as the forests extend. Many
rear their families in the wild country in the in-
terior of Maine. Their nests are sometimes
built upon the ground, though more frequently
in the hollow "stubs" of dead trees, the cavity
lined with down from the breasts of the expect-
ant parents. They lay from six to ten eggs, of
a bluish green color, and larger than is the rule
with birds of their size.

The Whistlers seem to be holding their own
in the struggle for existence — a thing which can
be said of few of the duck family. There is
good reason why they should, for there are few
ducks so cautious and wary, placing sentinels

344 FEATHERED GAME

over the flocks while feeding, flying instantly
at an alarm, and only alighting a long distance
away. They seem to know at just what dis-
tance a modern shotgun is effective, so that,
when the gunner is "sculling" them in winter
they keep a watchful eye upon that seeming ice-
cake which the coots and bluebills allow to ap-
proach so readily, and as the old drake Whistler
looks over his shoulder at his pursuer he says
to himself, says he, "Three hundred yards
away, — all right!" and down he goes for an-
other mouthful, bobs up, sit up on his tail, gives
his feathers a shake and takes another critical
survey of the diminishing distance, — ' l Two hun-
dred yards? — Well it grieves me greatly thus
to leave you, but I must be going," and off he
streaks it with his swiftly-moving wings mak-
ing a loud whistling, of course very cheering to
the toiler in the float, who sits up and listens as
it grows fainter and fainter until he marks his
intended victim down a mile away, where he
waits for the gunner to follow him to be teased
some more. Their whistling may be heard a
long distance — certainly half a mile on a still
day. The bird is strong-winged and swift of
flight. Audubon claims that a Whistler can

THE WHISTLER 345

travel ninety miles an hour. For my part I
have a very high regard for Mr. Whistler's
abilities, both of wing and wit. I have seen
him outrun many a charge of shot, and I know
of no waterfowl so crafty except a black duck.

The New England gunner kills most of his
Whistlers during the coldest weather of the
year when not only the fresh waters are closed
but the ice has formed solidly in the bays and
arms of the sea, leaving only a breathing hole
here and there where the swift currents will not
be held in the grip of winter. The gunner,
dressed in a white suit, — even his gun barrels
chalked, — lies flat upon the snow-covered ice at
the edge of some such an opening, behind a
slight blind of ice cakes, or in his float dragged
over the floe and launched upon the water
within. He places decoys at the proper dis-
tances, arranging them in the water and along
the edge of the ice, and takes what his fortune
may send him in the way of sport.

The Whistler is said not to decoy well, but
that has not been my experience. I do not
know a more certain method of bringing a flock
of these ducks to the decoys on a whistlerless
morning than for the sportsman to lay down his

346 FEATHERED GAME

gun, and, stepping out of his blind, to run
briskly away for a hundred yards just to shake
loose the icicles in his blood. About the time
he turns at the end of his breath he will see a
nice bunch of Whistlers just leaving his decoys.
This rule is invariable. Moral: Don't do it.
You may freeze to death, but stick by the blind.
I think that, given a good flock of decoys and a
good position, the rest lies more in the ability of
the sportsman to keep quiet and hidden than in
any unwillingness of the birds to decoy. The
Whistler is very quick to see a movement or
perceive any little matter out of the common.
When he does not like the appearance of things
he can not be induced to come anywhere near.
The gunner, too, must pay the strictest atten-
tion and shoot the instant his game is in the
right place, for once he is seen or treachery
suspected they go climbing into the sky like
rockets.

A fair amount of sport may be had in this
way if the gunner can endure the cold, for it is
a pretty rugged kind of amusement. To get
some shooting on a winter's morning it is only
necessary to set a string of decoys off some
ledge of rocks where an open space of water

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THE WHISTLER 347

gives a chance for a duck to get his breakfast.
Be sure you are completely hidden and keep
quiet, — the golden rule of all duck shooting.

Just before sun-up the first of ocean's toilers
begin to appear, — the gulls going lazily across
the water to some inshore feeding ground for
their morning meal. Seaward the sombre
cloudbank reddens with the coming light and the
islands become more than the shadowy masses
which they have been ever since our arrival. A
faint noise like a high-pitched whistle sounded
rapidly and continuously, calls your attention
skyward where a single duck is speeding his
way past, bound up the bay. Suddenly he
sights the decoys, black specks upon a mirror of
polished steel, swings in a wide circle to lee-
ward and with set wings drops out of the air
with swift, slanting flight. Eight in among the
"tolers" he comes with a splash, then, discov-
ering the cheat leaps into the air to escape.
Even as he spreads his wings a gun roars forth
its summons to surrender, and in the obedience
he may not deny the poor bird topples into the
sea. The float is launched and the prize
brought ashore. The gunner crouches again in
his ice- and sea-weed-covered blind just as a

348 FEATHERED GAME

bunch of a dozen birds come hurrying in from
outside. They mean to pass by two hundred
yards away, but one duck sees the decoys, darts
from the main body, sets its wings and comes
with a rush. Another sees the first one and fol-
lows suit; then another, and another, until the
whole flock turns and comes in also. Just as
they are about to settle in the water some old
drake catches the glimmer of a gun-barrel, or
sees the gunner's eyelids move, or hears his
heart beat, or merely takes alarm on general
principles and forthwith begins to back water
with his engines and then to climb for a higher
altitude. The rest hesitate, then as the gun-
ner rises, away in every direction like the burst-
ing of a bombshell, goes the flock of thoroughly
startled ducks, no two together. Choose your
birds quickly and aim well ! Put plenty of shot
into him or he will surely escape, for he is a
rugged little rustler. The air is full of whiz-
zing wings and merry whistlings, yet before one
can think twice they are only a memory and half
a mile away the stragglers are uniting again.

Another collection of black specks out toward
the open sea begins to be heard making its mu-
sic, coming ever nearer and the noise growing

THE "WHISTLER 349

louder and louder. Down! Down! Just one
eye over the top of the rock blind and mind you
don 't wink that eye ! There ! They have seen
the "tolers" and here they come! Now they
set their wings and drop like — like — well, like
Whistlers that mean business. Just as the
leaders hover over the decoys with wings out-
spread let go at them, and as they rise the other
barrel speaks. Well done! A few more
chances like that and we shall make a bag of
birds.

These ducks are most uncertain fellows and
cannot be judged by any set rule or precedent.
You may have the finest flock of decoys ever
seen and yet the Whistlers may choose to pass
them by to decoy to one lone bird sitting in a
small opening in the ice a hundred yards away.
Why? I don't know. Perhaps experience has
taught them that a place where a gunner may
hide is a pretty good place to look for him. Be
sure that every duck that flies in will drop into
that same spot until there is a raft of birds there
large enough to satisfy all your wife's relations.
What to do then? Well, have you a sail
aboard? Then let us push through or over the
ice into that opening and set our decoys in the

350 FEATHERED GAME

water close to the edge and on the ice nearby,
ourselves in the boat twenty yards back into
the ice-field and to leeward of the decoys.
Throw the sail over us and over the boat. Grip
a corner of our covering in your left hand and
carry it across you, then your gun in the right
hand, lean back in the stern of the boat with
just your eye uncovered, keeping a sharp look-
out always, and the "old iron" where it can be
thrown quickly into action. Such an arrange-
ment makes a blind hardly to be suspected by
the wisest campaigner and the ducks will often
come in quite near. A gunner so placed will at
times get good shooting when a competitor on
shore cannot get a shot. Try it some time when
you see them passing every point and ledge out
of gun-shot. Another point; make sure your
decoys are good ones. Our friend is very dis-
criminating in his tastes and prefers to be
fooled artistically.

Got enough, have you? Well, after the sun
is up the flight flags. The main body is on some
inshore feeding ground, and unless some mis-
guided mortal will try to ' ' scull ' ' them we may
as well quit. I am nearly frozen! How are
you! And we are both ready to pull the boat

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ROCKY MOUNTAIN GARROT 351

home — one of the few times that men are will-
ing to quarrel for the chance to toil for the com-
mon good.

The Whistler's flesh is held in slight esteem
during the winter months when its diet is made
up of mussels and shellfish from the unfailing
larder of the sea, the last refuge of our ducks in
cold weather, but on the inland waters where
they are among the earliest visitors in the
spring, and during the brighter times of sum-
mer and early fall when a vegetable diet is af-
forded, they are more than passable for the ta-
ble. Indeed, at any time they are not so strong
in their flavor as their seafowl neighbors.

How dull and monotonous these summer days
must be after their winter-long struggle to keep
their bodies from the soup-kettle and their skins
from the taxidermists' shelves!

ROCKY MOUNTAIN GARROT. BAR-
ROW'S GOLDEN-EYE.

(Clangula islandica.)

A western relative of our typical bird, of
somewhat rare occurrence in the east. It dif-
fers a little from the common variety in its

352 FEATHERED GAME

markings, but its habits are probably identical
with the Whistler ways familiar to all eastern
gunners.

Its range lies more to the west and south of
the habitat of the common variety, more numer-
erous throughout the interior than on the coast
line.

Its size is if anything a bit larger than the
common species. Its markings are as follows:
the color on the head is of purplish shade — the
white patch at the base of the bill longer and
narrower and of somewhat crescentic shape —
the crest feathers a trifle longer than in the type
known to most of the shooting fraternity of the
northeast, thus making the outline of the crown
more rounded than in the common species.
Three or four white feathers appearing among
the scapulars will assist in showing the species
if a male, as will also the broad edgings on the
flank feathers, much heavier in this than in the
typical bird of the east. Iris as in the common
Whistler. Feet dull orange.

The females of the two species can scarcely be
distinguished one from the other. The lady of
this species may average a very little larger.
A probable distinction may lie in the higher and

ROCKY MOUNTAIN GARROT 353

narrower bill which she wears, but I think it
will need a more than commonly close ob-
server to pick her out among a number of speci-
mens of the ordinary species.

This is a bird of wide range, breeding any-
where along our northern border, thence any
distance toward cold weather. It may be that
the greater number nest in the Rockies. It
seems to be very uncommon in New England,
but is said to breed in the interior of Maine in
the lake region. A few are taken each year in
Penobscot Bay.

This duck has the same music box arrange-
ment in its wings as has our own species, and
decoys readily to "tolers" of the ordinary
Whistler, though it is said that in localities and
on streams where both birds frequent they are
apt to keep apart, each to his own kind. It
must be a hard matter in the mating time, with
the madness of that happy season in his blood,
for young Mr. Whistler to know when he has
chosen wisely and well — whether he has chosen
Miss Clangula Americana, or her cousin, Miss
Islandica. But even wise men have sometimes
shown little wisdom at such crises, and he has
this for consolation — that if he has blundered

354 FEATHERED GAME

he will never find it out, since there are few
prying scientists among his acquaintances to
inform him of his mistake and so destroy his
happiness.

THE BUFFLEHEAD. DIPPER. BUT-
TERBALL.

(Charitonetta albeola.)

At different seasons of the year this pretty
little duck is found in all parts of North
America, breeding from the northern States of
the Union into the Arctic regions, and winter-
ing in the West Indies, Mexico and Central
America. It is also a chance visitor to Europe.

A fat and chunky little fellow he is, well
meriting his name, the "Butter-ball," as also
his other title, earned by his undoubted talent
for disappearing beneath the water when dan-
ger threatens, — because of which he is called
the "Spirit Duck" and "Dipper." In appear-
ance he is a miniature "whistler," the black and
white plumage being arranged much as in the
dress of that bird, and the little fellow's head
has the same puffy, hair-on-end innocence of

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THE BUFFLEHEAD 355

brush and comb, with the same changeable vio-
let and green sheen to the feathers.

Formerly a most abundant species here and
on account of its small size seldom molested by
the gunners, of late it is very rarely seen, and
would, in the present scarcity of game, hardly
receive the consideration which it once enjoyed,
although its flesh is not so good as it might be.

It is a wary little bird with much of its larger
relative's good sense and caution, like the
"whistler," setting a sentinel over the flock as
it feeds, diving at once if alarmed, putting a
safe distance between itself and pursuit before
coming again to the surface, then instantly tak-
ing wing and off like a flash. On the seacoast
they feed contentedly among the breakers and
near the rocks, seeming to like such places bet-
ter than the smooth waters, probably because
the waves are tossing plenty of food about.

The breeding and nesting season finds the
most of them in the north, where by quiet
stream or sedgy pond they make their nest, in-
differently on the ground or in a dead stub,
with its hollow lined with feathers and grass,
and all is ready for the eggs. The broods range

356 FEATHERED GAME

in number from six to twelve ducklings, gen-
erally nearer the smaller figure.

The Dipper is a hardy little bird, staying
in its northern home late into the fall and com-
ing into our latitude only during the coldest
weather, to leave again early in the spring.

The male bird's plumage is made up of
sharply contrasted blacks and whites, with a
brilliant sheen to the long, fluffy feathers of
the head. The upper parts are mainly black,
growing lighter toward the tail. Lower neck
all around and under parts throughout are
white, with faint dusky shadings on the flanks
and sides. Except for a large triangular patch
of white behind the eye the entire head is dark
green, almost black, with a purplish irrides-
cence. Most of the wing coverts are white, but
a broad black line runs through them from the
lower back to the shoulder. Tail dusky, feath-
ers lighter on the edges. The bill is dull bluish
with a black nail. Feet pale flesh color, webs
dusky, nails black. Iris brown.

The female is even smaller than the male and
is of less decided tones ; a dull grayish brown in
color on the back with less of the contrasts
shown in the plumage of the male bird. Whit-

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THE OLD SQUAW 357

ish below and white speculum. Head less puffy
in the lay of its feathers, snuffy brown, with a
small gray patch behind the eye. In her mark-
ings she resembles very closely the female of
the American golden-eye made up a vest pocket
edition.

The Bufflehead averages from twelve to fif-
teen inches in length and in extent from twenty-
two to twenty-four inches. As may be seen,
the smallest of our ducks.

THE OLD SQUAW.

(Harelda hyemalis.)

The wind sweeps along the gray water in
heavy gusts, driving dead leaves seaward and
piling foam and drift on the island shores. The
long rollers break on the ledges in heavy mono-
tone, thundering across seaweed-covered reefs
in foam and feathery spray. The oak trees
creak and gride against each other where they
margin the shore and the smaller branches rat-
tle and clash together. Withered leaves and
dead grass stems rustle drearily in the breeze.
Not a song-bird cheers the woods with melody.
Not a shore-bird's whistle gladdens beach or

358 FEATHERED GAME

marsh. Landward the only indication of bird
life is the scream of the jay or the distant caw-
ing of the crows, southward bound. Winter is
close at hand. There is a sting in the wind, a
nip in the air, and the fingers are numb and blue
as they hold the gun barrels. But out on the
water, careless of wind or wave, rides a flock of
" Squaws " making always a merry clatter.
Ever and anon some of their number rise
against the breeze to dart off at lightning speed,
apparently in the mere enjoyment of flight, for,
circling a half a mile about, they plump down
again among their comrades, all the time noisily
calling to each other. We might almost say
they are the only song birds among the ducks,
for really their notes are very pleasant to hear
and quite musical in comparison with the usual
vocal production of the family.

Undisturbed they have made holiday and
raised their broods during the short Arctic
summer, but now, driven by snow and ice from
these pleasant quarters, they bring their young-
sters southward along the coasts of New Eng-
land and the Middle Atlantic States for the
winter, dwelling offshore from the St. Lawrence
to the Potomac.

THE OLD SQUAW 359

They seem to favor the sandy shores, leaving
to their neighbors, the "coots," almost undis-
turbed possession of those rocky, weed- and
kelp-grown grounds which they love the best.
The writer knows one stretch of shore divided
into two parts by a high and narrow promon-
tory; on the one hand shifting sandbars at the
mouth of a swift-running river and mile after
mile of shallows over a sandy bottom. Here
are the Squaws, making a continual music most
pleasant to the gunner's ear. They are a very
restless lot, dashing about from place to place,
the swiftest of the seafowl. On the other side
of the headland are waters deep and bold, crash-
ing and tumbling in on a rugged, rocky shore,
with the full sweep of the open ocean. Here
dwell the ' ' coots, ' ' winging their heavy flight in
sluggish contrast to the lightning rush of the
1 ' Squaw. ' ' Scarce a ' ' Long-tail ' ' puts his nose
around the point which marks the frontier be-
tween the two communities, or if he does so,
dashes back with the half-scared air of an in-
truder.

The Oldsquaw is mainly maritime, though oc-
casional vagrants are seen on the Great Inland
Seas. Their only visits to New England shores

360 FEATHERED GAME

are made during the winter months, the breed-
ing and summer seasons being spent in the
far north.

Their nests are made upon the ground and
on the shore of some fresh water pond near the
sea. These contain from four to seven grayish
eggs. As soon as the youngsters are fairly well
grown and able to take care of themselves they
are taken out into the wide world of the ocean.
For their food the sea furnishes an unfailing
supply of marine animals and mollusks, which,
however, makes their flesh very dark and to
most palates very unpleasant. They are very
fond of the "sand fleas" and marine creatures
of the seaweed and beaches.

They leave our coasts for the breeding
grounds, on the shores of the Arctic seas and
among its islands, during the latter half of
April or the first of May, to return again,
southward bound, in October or November, ac-
cording to the season, remaining in our waters
all winter.

Because their flight is very swift and they
decoy well great numbers of Squaws are killed
each year by the gunners who shoot them mere-

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THE OLD SQUAW 361

ly for the practice and sport which they af-
ford, oftentimes leaving dead and wounded
birds to float at the mercy of wind and tide.
It is at the hands of such butchers as these that
the myriads of seafowl that once lined our
coasts have been reduced to the hundredth part
of their former numbers, for no species, how-
ever numerous, could stand the drain upon their
forces resulting from such shooting, and to
make the matter worse, most are killed in the
spring flight to the north. I have seen twenty
boats at a time, each containing from two to
four shooters, all killing and wounding Squaws,
and the half of them never troubling to pick up
a bird.

Most of the Squaw killing is done over de-
coys; a string of "tolers" anchored to wind-
ward of a boat and the gunner only using the
caution to keep below the gunwale until the
flock is hovering over the decoys. Another way
much in favor is to put a line of boats across a
sound or channel through which the birds are
accustomed to pass in going to and from their
feeding grounds, and by anchoring a little more
than a gunshot apart the birds have no choice

362 FEATHEBED GAME

but to run the gauntlet if they would have their
breakfast. Of course they are shot from
"floats" also.

A number of names are given this bird by the
gunners of the coast, among them, "Long-tailed
Duck;" "Old Injun," (male); "Old Squaw,"
(female); "Sou-southerly," from some fancied
resemblance of their cry to these words;
"Hound," from the sound of the flock's "gab-
ble," which is somewhat like the distant yelp-
ing of a pack of hounds ; ' ' Old Wife, ' ' from its
talents as a conversationalist, perhaps.

The Old Squaw, by which name it is most gen-
erally known to us of the northeast, is also
found on the Great Lakes in winter, dwells on
the Pacific coast and in the waters of northern
Europe along the coast.

What a streak of lightning it is when under
way! When a gunner thinks he is "holding
just right" on a passing "Squaw" it is a good
plan for him to double his forelaying or the
bird will continue to pass. Certainly, with the
possible exception of the "whistler," no duck
of the salt water can hope to stay in his com-
pany when he is crowded for time. A heavy
charge of powder and about number 4 shot is

THE OLD SQUAW 363

necessary as a convincing argument for stop-
ping him. Where much hunted they learn cau-
tion quickly and offer only the longest of shots.
At any time a wounded bird means a heap of
trouble in the gathering thereof. They have
all the talents of the most skillful seafowl at
submarine navigation.

The seasonal changes of plumage in the male
bird are quite radical. In the breeding dress
the head and neck are a brownish black with a
patch of gray about the eyes. Neck and breast
a very dark brown, nearly black; the under
parts white or silver gray, well defined and
sharply contrasted against this dark ground.
Upper parts everywhere, as are also the long
feathers of the tail, nearly black ; the scapulars
varied with tawny yellow and reddish brown on
the edges of the feathers. The short tail
feathers silvery gray, darkening toward the
central feathers. Bill black with an area of
orange at the tip. Iris of the male carmine,
his feet dull bluish with dusky webs and black
claws. Iris of the female yellow, feet dusky
greenish with blackish webs.

The fall and winter plumage is widely differ-
ent from the spring suit ; on the head, neck and

364 FEATHERED GAME

forepart of the back almost white, with a gray-
ish patch on the cheeks and a dark brown spot
under the ears. Upper breast dark brown be-
tween the white of the neck and the under parts.
Bill mostly orange, with nail and central line
of the mandible black. When a flock of winter
Squaws goes past it looks like a snow squall
driving over the waves. Occasional males are
taken in a curiously pied and mixed dress, a
stage between the regular plumages. Some
birds are found carrying the winter dress
through the summer or vice versa.

The female is a modestly attired duck. She
has not the elongated central tail feathers.
Her head, neck and upper parts in general are
like the male's but paler and of less decided
colors; grayish brown with a whitish patch on
neck and about the eye. Under parts white ex-
cept the upper part of the breast which is light
brown.

The length of the male bird varies according
to the development of his tail feathers from
twenty to twenty-three inches; extent about
thirty inches. The length of the female about
eighteen inches ; extent, a trifle less than that of

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THE HARLEQUIN DUCK 365

the male bird. Weight of this species from one
and three-quarters to two pounds. The Squaw
is found on the coast of Alaska but is rarely
seen on the western coast of the United States.
It is common all along the coasts of northern
Europe and Asia.

THE HARLEQUIN DUCK. "LORD AND
LADY."

(Histrionicus histrionicus.)

This bird inhabits nearly the whole of the
northern hemisphere, Europe, Asia, Green-
land, Iceland and North America. In our own
country it breeds rarely in our northern States,
more commonly in the Arctic regions. It also
nests in the interior in the mountains, the
Rockies and the Sierra Nevadas, which fact
seems strange to our sportsmen of the north-
east, for to them the Harlequin is a bird of the
deep water, only found in any number far out
to sea with the king eiders. It is reported to
have bred along the eastern coast line of New
England and in the Bay of Fundy, but probably
is nowhere numerous in the nesting season south

366 FEATHERED GAME

of Newfoundland and Labrador. It is seldom
found in this latitude except during the cold
weather.

From the time of their visits and the dis-
tance of their haunts from the mainland few
of their numbers fall a prey to the gunners,
and the "Lords and Ladies," as they are named
by seafowl shooters, are very rarely occupants
of our game bags. But this is small cause for
grief, since aside from their bright plumage
and their beauty as "specimens" they are of
little value.

If a shot is fired at a flock on the wing they
will sometimes plunge from the air into the
water and after swimming below the surface
again take wing, coming up a hundred yards
away — seeming the instant they reappear to
dash from the depths into the air at full speed,
leaving the gunner inexperienced in their ways
and who perhaps had thought that by some mi-
raculous chance he had killed the entire flock, to
find that he doesn't care for that kind of duck
after all. I passed through just such an ex-
perience once, and remember yet how disgusted
and surprised I was when after steaming up
to where the whole flock should have been dead

THE HARLEQUIN DUCK 367

— no duck! and what may have been their
ghosts rising from their watery graves sixty
yards away.

They make their nests on the ground or in
the hollow of a tree, lining the cavity with
grass, leaves, moss or down. The number of
eggs is from six to ten — usually eight — of a
grayish green color.

This is a very curiously marked duck, beau-
tifully plumaged in its full dress, which, it is
probable, is not put on before the third spring.
The general color of the species is a dull bluish,
almost purplish, darker and nearly black on the
top of the head, lower back, rump and tail.
The body color is darker on the head and neck
than on the breast and back, here growing more
brownish in tone. The flanks bright chestnut.
A white patch on each side at the root of the
tail. Speculum purplish with a metallic lus-
tre. A patch of white at the base of the bill;
stripe of chestnut above each eye, and a small
circular patch of white behind the eye, with a
long, narrow stripe of the same color running
down each side of the hind neck. A collar of
white running around the lower neck, this
black-edged, and another lower down on the

368 FEATHERED GAME

forebreast, the ends almost meeting on the
back, this stripe also black-bordered. Some lit-
tle white on the scapulars ; iris red-brown ; feet
dull blue with dusky webs; bill greenish.

The female is considerably smaller than her
mate and somewhat different in her markings;
more brownish in her tones and lighter and
grayer below. Bill, feet and iris as in the male
bird. Length of male from fifteen to seventeen
inches; extent from twenty-four to twenty-
seven; female somewhat less than these meas-
urements.

THE LABRADOR DUCK.

(Camptolaimus labradorius.)

There is small likelihood of the gunner's
meeting this bird, either in New England's
waters or elsewhere outside a few great mu-
seums, but on the slight chance that it still sur-
vives and may happen to be taken, and in order
that our list of seafowl may be complete it is
here described.

There is much reason to believe that the spe-
cies is extinct, at least there is no record of its
capture in many years. If a specimen should

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THE LABRADOR DUCK 369

be taken the lucky gunner would find it the
most profitable bit of seafowl shooting of his
career, for he might command his own price
for the prize. I think the last recorded speci-
men, as published by the "Auk," the official
journal of the American Ornithologist's Union,
was one taken at Grand Menan Island in 1871.
There are very few specimens in collections
(some forty in this country and perhaps twenty
across the water) and it is probable that these
will always be highly prized, the value of each
bird increasing every year. Very few can be
had at any price. The figure paid at the last
sale of which I knew was $1,000 per duck.

Cast in the heavy ponderous mould of the
seaduck, short of wing, slow and heavy in flight,
and comparatively clumsy in model, the bird
bears some resemblance to the eiders both in
shape and markings. As it was fitted out with
all the advantages possessed by the coots and
eiders, it is hard to see why the race should
have died out. Audubon tells of its breeding
habits. It was a strictly maritime species and
nested from the coast of Labrador into the
north, in winter coming southward to the waters
of the Chesapeake. This is about all we know

370 FEATHERED GAME

of its life and habits, and our chance of learn-
ing more about thero is very slight. It was
fully fifty years ago that they were found on
our coasts, never in any abundance, for few
have been taken at all.

Audubon's drawings were made from a pair
shot by Daniel Webster and by him presented
to the naturalist.

The male bird's head and neck are white, with
a broad black line running down over the crown
and nape. The lower neck with a black ring
encircling it and that connected with the black
of the back and upper parts. Below this black
collar a broader band of white which nearly
meets at the back. Above, entirely black ex-
cept the wing coverts, secondaries and scapu-
lars, these last pearl gray ; below, wholly black,
save the linings of the wings and the axillars,
which are white. Primaries and their coverts
and the tail feathers brownish black. Bill black,
base and edges orange, the ridge blue-gray.
Eyes reddish brown ; feet gray with dusky webs
and nails.

The female is a mottled gray and brown duck
not much unlike the females of the king eiders,
but may be distinguished by her white speculum.

THE AMERICAN EIDER 371

Bill, eyes and feet as in the male. Length from
eighteen to twenty inches; extent about thirty
inches.

THE AMERICAN EIDER.

(Somateria dresseri.)

This dweller of the cold north visits our
coasts only during the severest winter weather.
Even then it keeps to its feeding grounds
among the outer islands and in the open sea,
hence it is called the "Sea Duck," and by this
title is best known to our gunners.

Beneath the feathers the bird is covered with
a thick coat of down, (the eider-down of com-
merce, or some of it), which in the regions
where they breed is gathered from the nests as
it is supplied by the birds themselves. They
will even submit to being robbed twice, it is said,
but decline to furnish more if the spoiler makes
a third descent, then deserting the nest. The
birds use this down as a lining for the nests and
as a covering for the eggs, pulling the thick,
blanket-like mass over their treasures when
they leave them for a time to feed. In Ice-
land the people cut shallow holes in the turfy
edges near the sea, all around their homes, even

372 FEATHERED GAME

on the low, sod-covered roofs of their huts, in
which the Eiders may make their nests, for
peace and perfect protection have made them
fearless and half domesticated. Here they are
protected by law and the destruction of nests or
eggs is punished by a heavy fine, for the down
is a source of considerable profit to the people.
Some few birds bred for years on the Maine
coast in Penobscot Bay, and near Grand Menan
Island, further east, but in both places the
collector's persistency (always for the advance-
ment of science, of course) has discouraged all
attempts there of late years. Within a short
time, however, the State has decided that they
are worthy of some consideration and an island,
where each year a few have succeeded in nest-
ing in spite of all obstacles, has been set apart
and efficiently guarded from intrusion in the
hope of their colony's increasing in numbers,
which it bids fair to do. Its main nesting, how-
ever, takes place in the northeastern corner of
our continent, from the Gulf of St. Lawrence
northward along the shores of Hudson Bay and
the Labrador coast. Beyond these limits it is
replaced by the Greenland Eider which differs
very slightly from this species.

THE AMERICAN EIDER 373

No kindness such as Iceland affords Is of-
fered to the flocks which turn their course south-
ward along the American coast, for as soon as
they reach the lines of civilization they run
a continual gauntlet of shot from fishermen and
gunners, and enjoy peace and quietness only
during the severest weather when the sea is so
rough or the day is so cold as to make a shoot-
ing trip "extra hazardous." Fortunately no
weather is too cold or sea too fierce for this
bird's comfort; such conditions mean safety,
and he can be happy at a temperature low
enough to freeze a polar bear. A pleasant day
with a smooth sea in midwinter means death to
many a seafowl.

I know one ledge, a favorite shooting stand,
to which the gunners from the neighboring
islands will pull out four or five miles in the
afternoon to set their decoys, custom admitting
these to hold the position against later comers,
then they go home again to make another start
at one or two o'clock the following morning to
be on hand at the first light. Some even roll
up in their blankets around a fire of driftwood
in the lee of some great cliff in order to be first
at a point of vantage — this with a chance of the

374 FEATHERED GAME

thermometer being down out of sight in the
glass. Truly, "They have their reward." It
may be game or it may take the form of pneu-
monia.

A common way in this neighborhood is for
the gunner to go to the home of some dweller
among the outer islands and start out with him.
At midnight or a little later the warning hail is
heard and out from the blankets you stumble
to blink sleepily over a cup of strong coffee and
the fuel to keep the inner man in order, then
down to the shore to make ready. Cold and
still the night, scarce a breath of air moving
over the quiet water, but with regular rise and
fall the gently seething swell breaks over the
rocks at the mouth of the narrow cove. In-
side the rocky barrier small fishing crafts ride
at anchor, the water rippling alongside and their
masts reflected in the waves show like long, un-
dulating serpents. Overhead the moon shows
pale and cold, and the stars in the sky are wink-
ing down at their reflections in the sea. Anon
comes the gentle rustle of the breeze among
the pines, so still the night you hear their
needles shivering with the cold, and next the
rumble and clatter of the decoys, oars and other

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THE AMERICAN EIDER 375

trappings jar discordantly on the silence as
they are tumbled into the boat. At last we are
off and are soon right willing to stand our trick
at the oars, pulling away with a good will, for
the air is pitilessly cold, and the black-looking
mass where we hope for our morning's sport
rises out of the sea a good four miles away.
After a long pull with oar blades made heavy
with their coating of ice, we find ourselves on the
barren, wave-washed ledge. The decoys are
quickly set and are soon floating in a life-like
bunch before a natural blind in the rocks. You
have come a long distance in the chill air of the
night and though half frozen with the winter's
breath are yet ready to brave rheumatism or
risk pneumonia in the pursuit of your game.
If so you are made of the stuff that succeeds
and deserve success.

On every hand strange and fantastic shapes
loom up like ghosts, — the work of dashing spray
and the north wind. The rocks are clad in icy
armor and every salt stream trickling down1
from the pools above marks its course with sil-
ver tracery. Long icicles hang pendant from
the beetling cliffs which overtop the waves, and
over all the moon throws a weird and fairy

376 FEATHERED GAME

light — here into a cavern of inky blackness,
there upon a wall glittering as with pearls and
diamonds set in Parian marble. The never-
quiet swell of the Atlantic heaves and falls with
regular pulse below, and for a time all conver-
sation is hushed in the grandeur of the scene,
the silence only broken by the booming of the
surf on some neighboring reef. Ere long the
path of the moon grows paler on the water, and
as the first faint shaft of light goes shivering
across the wakening world the rustling wings
of the dwellers on the waves are heard out in
the misty, uncertain stretch of water before
you. With straining eyes you peer over the
gray, tumbling seas. A splash! Something
has settled among the decoys and swimming up
in social mood begins a chat with one of them.
Its wooden dignity and silence discourages any
long conversation, and before you have made
up your mind as to which white floating object
is the most appropriate mark for your charge
he takes wing and disappears in the gloom, per-
haps followed by the haphazard discharge of
every gun in the battery.

The east is brighter now. Rays of light are
piercing the blackness overhead with arrowy

THE AMERICAN EIDER 377

shafts. The few remaining stars are fast put-
ting out their lamps. The clamor of passing
flocks and the rush of hurrying wings begin to
make sweet music. You cease drumming on
your knees and thrashing your arms about in
windmill fashion to keep your fingers warm —
halt in your endless sentry march up and down
the narrow rock-shelf where you have tramped
and stamped about that the blood might not
freeze in your very heart, and grasp the gun
tightly (though you think you will be compelled
to use it as a club, since your fingers are so
numb and stiff that you can scarcely hope to
pull trigger) for a flock of Sea Ducks, their
broad front like a line of battle, are headed
right for your decoys! Wait a bit! Don't fire
yet! They are big birds and seem to be much
nearer than they really are, especially when
head on, but you may easily discover that your
eyes are deceiving you if you shoot now. They
are scarcely in gunshot yet. Now! As they
swing! Bang! — Bang! Bang! — Bang! A
mighty commotion and away goes the remnant
of the flock in a hurry. See, there are three big
fellows lying on their backs in the water with
feebly kicking feet in the air, another turning

378 FEATHERED GAME

slowly 'round and 'round in a vain effort to get
under, and a couple more with better success
diving to the depths and swimming below the
surface for dear life. There is small hope of
their capture, yet if they come up within shot
let them have it, for a stray pellet might stop
them and we want to leave no poor cripples
here to suffer and starve.

Perhaps when you have shot your wounded
Sea Duck three or four times over you dis-
cover that he will stand a whole lot of killing,
and that he will carry off ballast enough to sink
most birds. He is one of those hard-headed,
gritty fellows who never admit the fact even
when they have been killed, and the thick coat
of down and feathers, backed up by the sturdy
muscles beneath, makes a very good suit of ar-
mor over his vitals. Head on, unless a shot
enters the neck or brain, you may as well snap
your fingers at him as waste ammunition, —
that, too, when you are using number one or
two for shot. Many use as heavy as BB.

Away in the distance, wherever you look
there is some scurrying flock of seafowl:
swift-flying "old-squaws" with a continual
"gabbling," — shelldrakes driving past in rush-

THE AMERICAN EIDER 379

ing flight, but silent all, and looking like a flock
of animated tenpins, — the heavy, lumbering
flight of "coots," or "surf ducks," winging
their way to some less troubled stretch of water.
To-day this is a favorite feeding ground, but
to-morrow there may not be a Sea Duck here,
for they often change their range without ap-
parent cause, leaving a place where for weeks
they have been plenty and moving a few miles
away to return as suddenly as they went.
Sometimes this is the work of the wind which
may carry them miles away as they rest upon
the sea at night, but as often as not it is the
bird's own caprice.

Right overhead, coming up behind you and
unnoting your presence where you were hidden
by the rocks, comes a big loon with out-stretched
neck and flying bravely with rapid wingbeats.
A shot only serves to hasten his flight, and
without a sound he keeps on, swinging in a
wide circuit to alight a mile away, perhaps
sorely hurt. The sun is up, the birds come in
thick and fast for an hour or so, then the flight
suddenly ceases. If you have held well and
truly, loaded the proper charges and placed
them where you ought, by this time, being a

380 FEATHERED GAME

reasonable man, you have game enough. You
had better go home now, for the flight is done
and only an occasional straggler will reward
your longer stay. So thinks our worthy pilot.
The man in the "dory," too, who has lain down
to leeward all this time, has had work enough
in picking up the dead and wounded. Add to
this that with the growing day a stiff breeze is
coming out of the northeast. Black heavy
clouds are gathering seaward and the veteran's
eyes are beginning to watch their threatening
masses closely. At last, — "Come, boys, we
must be gittin' out o' this! There's nasty
weather comin' yonder," and with a lusty hail
he tells Sam to take him aboard and they will
take up the "tolers." It is no child's play for
the green hand to pick up and stow the decoys,
but these two, one at the oars and the other at
the lines, make short work of it though the
"dory" jumps and pounds in the "chop" peril-
ously near to the jagged points of half sub-
merged rocks. And now with the game aboard
and the passengers safely stowed we square
away for home, the "landlubbers" of the
party keeping anxious eyes to windward where
sea and sky are fast becoming one in a dull

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THE AMERICAN EIDER 381

gray curtain. A mile from home the first flakes
of the storm begin to seethe in the water along-
side and in another minute every landmark is
hidden — nothing to look upon but nearby waves
and level lines of driving snow. If our guard-
ians are disturbed at the prospect they give no
sign, but pull steadily, keeping their course by
the heavy wind which they know will hold from
this quarter for some time. But the passen-
gers, covering up no little anxiety under an air
of indifference, are mightily pleased when
finally they hear the thunder of the sea upon the
rocks ahead. A short pull along the coast
brings into view the dead oak which marks the
harbor's entrance, and soon the voyage is
ended and we are at home with another shoot-
ing experience to remember, and that, too, one
which only New England's winter season can
give us.

The Eiders gather into large flocks and fly
out into the open sea for the night, coming in
about daybreak to feed among the sunken reefs
on the mollusks and shellfish which make their
chief diet and abound in such places. This
food, the staff of life to the seafowl, makes their
flesh dark and to most people unpleasant in

382 FEATHERED GAME

flavor. But opinions differ as to their food
qualities, the islanders praising them highly,
even preferring them to the more generally es-
teemed fowl of the fresh water. In its feed-
ing the Eider dives deeper than most ducks;
just how deep we can hardly know, but I think
I put it moderately when I claim that they can,
as the boys say, " bring up bottom" in sixty
feet of water ; and many say much deeper.

Many Eiders are killed by gunners who take
position under cover on the deep water ledges
where the birds feed, waiting while the flocks
work in shore, as they dive and come up nearer
each time until the whole party is well in.
Then the first arrivals gather together in a
compact bunch to await the rest of the flock.
When all are accounted for they fly out again
to repeat the process. Often a considerable
number are killed at a discharge as they
"bunch up" to go out.

From the nature of their haunts few Sea
Ducks are killed from "floats" as the water is
usually too rough to permit their use, for the
ducks, climbing up one hill of green water, may
easily look into the craft as it slides down an-
other long swell. The game, too, is much more

THE AMERICAN EIDER 383

wary than the average gunner would suppose
to see them come to decoys, for this they do
readily, a single bird or a small flock being al-
most sure to come in if they see the "tolers."
The larger flocks are less likely to notice de-
coys— a general rule with all ducks.

These birds arrive in New England waters
about December first, and have nearly always
gone north again by the middle of March or the
first of April at latest, varying their movements
as the season is mild or severe.

The Sea Duck is a powerfully made fowl,
about twenty-four inches long and in extent
some forty inches. The males will average to
weigh between five and six pounds ; the females
a pound less. The male in full plumage is a
remarkably showy bird, the contrasting effects
of his snowy white and jet black plumage in
broad areas being very striking. His head is
black on the crown and sides down through the
eyes and back to the base of the skull, with a
thin strip of white running over the centre of
the hind head and narrowing to a point on the
crown. The cheeks, throat, neck, back, upper
coverts and drooping plumes of the wings, the
upper breast, also a spot on each side of the

384 FEATHERED GAME

rump are white, shot on the sides and back of
the head with pale green, — a beautiful, satiny
shade, — and tinged on the breast with pale
russet brown. These delicate colors fade very
much in stuffed specimens. The entire under
parts, rump, tail and wing quills are jet
black. Iris brown. Feet and legs dark green.
The feet are a very generously constructed pair
of paddles, set well back on the body as an ad-
vantage in diving, of much larger proportions
than seem the fashion with the ducks of the
fresh water, and though perhaps less refined
in appearance than the water motors of the
aristocrats of the shallow ponds, will do more
work in one stroke than will theirs in three.
Frontal processes a rich yellowish green or
orange.

The female is widely different in her mark-
ings from her mate, and would scarcely be
thought one of the same species. She is a deep
reddish brown hue all over, somewhat dusky on
the lower parts, and everywhere mottled and
barred with rich dark brown and black; the
dark colors on the centres of the feathers above,
and the cross-barrings mainly on the flanks and
under parts.

THE AMERICAN EIDER 385

During the first fall the young birds resemble
the females though the markings are less clearly
defined. In the next spring the young males
put on a motley dress of brown, gray and black
irregularly splashed over the whole body, but
foreshadowing faintly the plumage of the adult
bird. It is probable that they do not get their
showy suit of black and white, clean cut and
delicately shaded, until the third year of their
life.

For a time after the breeding season the male
Eider is said to put on a dress such as his wife
wears. I have never seen one in this plumage,
the latest killed male which I have seen in New
England waters was in the perfection of his
wedding clothes on May 30.

During the latter part of their stay with us
there are comparatively few males in full plum-
age among the shotgun's victims, the most be-
ing what the islanders call "mongrels" from
their curiously mixed plumage, — the young
males just mentioned. It would seem that the
elders of the flock go on to the north ahead of
the main body, since the flocks found in our
waters seem to be all young males or all fe-
males. Certainly during the last month of

386 FEATHERED GAME

their stay a full-pluinaged male is a rarity.
The male goes on ahead to prepare the summer
residence for his lady? Not exactly! When
the house-keeping cares show on the family
horizon, a cloud no larger than a man's hand,
Mr. Eider joins with other worthless good-for-
naughts to spend his days and nights away from
home, living almost entirely at sea until the
nesting and moulting seasons are over and his
offspring have become self-supporting.

These are the largest of our ducks, eminently
fitted to take care of themselves, and one of the
few species which seem to be holding their own
in the struggle against the destroyer.

The difference between the American and the
Old World type, represented by the Greenland
Eider, which is occasionally taken on our coast,
and is perhaps a more northern race than our
own, lies principally in the shape of the frontal
process and bill; these, in the American bird,
are heavier and the tips of the nose ornaments
are rounder and fuller than in the European
species. One must be a close observer, how-
ever, to note the difference and distinguish the
visitor among a number of our own birds.

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THE KING EIDER 387

THE KING EIDER.

(Somateria spectabilis.)

The Eiders of North America include five
species. Of these the American, Greenland
and King Eiders are visitors or residents on
the northeastern coast. The present species is
another "Sea Duck." It lives mostly in the
open ocean and spends comparatively little time
ashore even for one of his seafaring race. His
is a life of perfect independence. He is at
home wherever he alights on ' ' blue water ' ' and
never a worriment is his — never a fear of pur-
suing gunner comes into his mind to ruffle his
placid days. Often large flocks of the King
Eiders are found in mid-ocean, hundreds of
miles from any land, feeding upon the drifting
seaweed which furnishes abundantly every-
thing needful.

Their maritime existence and the rarity of
their visits ashore, together with their heavy
bodies and short legs combine to make their gait
nearly as graceful as that of their human rep-
resentative, the ' ' old salt. ' ' In fact, it is a most
clumsy "waddle" when compared with the easy

388 FEATHERED GAME

and nimble movements of the mallard, wood
duck or pintail.

These are the children of the frozen seas,
abundant only in Arctic waters and only com-
ing into the warmer latitudes when the north
is given over to the dreary reign of night and
winter. Their migrations extend as far south
as the Middle Atlantic States, but they are rare
birds on all the coast line. An occasional
straggler is seen in the Great Lakes, and there
is one record of a male bird being taken on the
Mississippi, probably having been blown out of
his course, his reckoning lost, and he very will-
ing to go back to sea, for his cargo was nothing
but Mississippi mud. They are more common
on the Pacific coast than on the eastern edge of
our continent, but in the western waters do not
come so far south; probably because the same
latitudes are much warmer than with us.

In form and habits they are much like the
common Eiders. In his markings the male dif-
fers from the male of the common variety in
that he has a remarkable frontal process, most
pronounced during the breeding months and
nearly disappearing after this season, — a large
and curious bulge upon the bridge of his nose,

THE KING EIDER 389

of bright orange color, bounded by a jet black
edge. There is also a black mark like an in-
verted V beneath the chin, the ends running
down on each side of the throat. The plumes
of the wings (the drooping tertials) are purplish
black, wherein again he differs from the male
of the common species, and also in the peculiar
development of the outer two of these feathers,
whose outer edges are deeply notched and the
protruding point of the web stiffened to form a
feathery horn standing out from each wing. In
color he is mostly black ; the neck, upper breast
and linings of the wings with a spot on each
side of the rump are white. The white of the
breast is faintly tinged with cinnamon brown.
The top of the head and nape are grayish blue
or pearl gray, a very beautiful shade ; the sides
of the head tinged with pale sea green and the
feathers bristly and hairlike, giving the effect of
a piece of velvet. Iris brown. Bill and feet
of reddish hue. Length about twenty-two
inches; extent some twenty-eight inches.
Weight from four to five pounds.

The female would scarcely be distinguished
from that of the common species, except that
her head and bill are proportionately shorter

390 FEATHERED GAME

and deeper, also the frontal process is not so
prominent as in the common species. She is
smaller and of less ruddy coloring than Mrs.
Dresseri, otherwise an exact replica of her
larger cousin.

The male in the first year resembles the fe-
male; in the second he puts on a motley guise
like that of the common eider, and is supposed
to reach his third year before donning his per-
fect plumage, beautiful and striking, even more
so than that of the common eider.

The nesting habits and mode of life are nearly
identical with those of the typical eider, and
there is little to be said of one species which
may not with equal truth be applied to the other.
This bird, however, nests much further north;
perhaps the most northern summer dweller
among the wildfowl.

THE AMERICAN SCOTER. BUTTER-
BILLED COOT.

(Oidemia americana.)

Few of the many species of seafowl which
abound in New England's waters are so well
known, and probably none are so numerous

THE AMERICAN SCOTER 391

among our sea-islands as are the "Coots," as
they are named by the gunners alongshore.
During the latter half of September straggling
bunches of these birds begin to appear, and with
increasing numbers they gather into larger
flocks. The greater part has arrived by the
middle of October and their advanced guards
begin to spread out down the coast as far as
the Middle Atlantic States. We are told that
they are sometimes shot in Florida.

Probably the least wary of the duck family,
they may be approached quite readily as com-
pared with other members of the tribe. Gun-
ners use many methods for capturing the Coots,
but the greater number are killed over decoys.
A string of ' ' tolers ' ' is set in a promising place
just off some rocky point or ledge in the deep
water, the gunner is well hidden, and if the birds
are flying there is every prospect of good shoot-
ing, for the Coot is one of the best of birds to
decoy. Often in the early part of the season,
before the birds have become shy from con-
stant peppering, the gunner may set his decoys
on a line from his boat, only keeping below the
gunwale when the flocks are coining in. And
they ivill come in. I have often seen them fly

392 FEATHERED GAME

close enough to be struck with an oar, — I may
say that they make it an invariable rule to do
this when the gunner has taken the shells out
of his gun or laid it aside to pick up his decoys
after a morning's cootless waiting in the cold.
One oddity in the gentle art of duck-shooting
is the practice of "hollerin' coots," that is, of
making a great noise when a flock is passing
by out of shot, when they will often turn and
come to the decoys. The report of a gun some-
times has the same effect, but we New Engend-
ers are too thrifty to waste powder and lead
where our vocal organs will serve as well.

Next to decoying the use of the " gunning
float" is the most effective method of killing
Coots. The " gunning float" is a long, low
craft, drawing but little water and showing
only a foot or so above the surface when prop-
erly trimmed down with ballast. In the fall,
for use in the open water they are "trimmed"
with "rockweed;" in the marshes with
"thatch." In the spring and winter months
the proper thing is snow and ice to represent
a drifting ice-cake. It takes sharp eyes to de-
tect the dangerous one among the many harm-
less pieces of ice when the gunner, clad in his

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THE AMERICAN SCOTER 393

white suit, is working his cautious way along
toward the feeding flocks. The deception is so
complete that I have known that crafty old pi-
rate, the crow, to almost alight on the nose of
a float when it was being pushed after a flock
of seafowl. This float gunning is the method
most used for all duck and goose shooting on
the eastern New England coast line.

The Coots are often approached by sail-boats
when there is a good sailing breeze, the craft
getting to windward and then coming down
upon them. As these birds always rise against
the breeze and are heavy in flight and slow in
getting under way there is often an opportunity
to get in several shots before they are out of
range.

I remember discovering on one of my shoot-
ing trips a new and well-wooded island in
waters where I knew no island had stood be-
fore, and was surprised and alarmed to see my
find move bravely along "with a bone in its
teeth, ' ' against wind and tide. I sat up in my
float and rubbed my eyes for another look.
Suddenly a cloud of smoke poured out through
the trees and the deep-throated roar of heavy
ten bores rolled over the water. The mystery

394 FEATHERED GAME

is solved: a tugboat with a row of trees along
each gunwale chasing a flock of Coots. This
method of killing seafowl is wisely forbidden
by the laws of most of our maritime States.
"Sailing ducks," as the method mentioned be-
fore is termed, is also forbidden in many States,
and properly, too, since it only serves to make
the birds wild and finally to drive them "out-
side" entirely because they can get neither
rest nor food. Slaughter enough can be made
among them legitimately and a man should be
satisfied with what can be done over decoys and
by "sculling."

A few Coots remain on our coast during the
warm weather, but there is not much evidence
of their breeding in these latitudes. They are
probably the crippled and unmated survivors
of the spring flight, not able or not caring to
journey farther north. Some may breed here;
there seems to be no reason why they should
not, but if they do so at all the number is prob-
ably very small. The most of them go far away
toward the land of snow and ice, there to bring
up in security their six or eight youngsters,
hardening them by a liberal diet of shell-fish

THE AMERICAN SCOTER 395

and sea-food, until shot will flatten on their
flesh if it strikes them.

They are unusually tough customers either in
life or at the table. Most of our cooks believe
it impossible to so prepare this bird as to make
it decent food for any but a starving man.
The best recipe that I have seen is something
as follows : First, skin your fowl and let it par-
boil in saleratus water at least one day, or until
it can be dented with a fairly sharp axe. If
your courage holds out the game is now ready
to stuff and bake as you would any other duck,
except that you must put enough onions into
its inside to take away all Coot flavor. Arriv-
ing at this stage of proceedings there are two
lines of retreat yet open to you: either throw
your delicate morsel away or give it to someone
against whom you hold an ancient grudge, — on
no account should you try to eat it. Some of
my island friends claim to be able to cook a
Coot so that I could not tell it from a black duck.
Well, perhaps, — but thus far I have always been
careful to decline to referee any such match,
for I much doubt if I could distinguish in a dark
room between the flavor of a Coot and the pal-

396 FEATHERED GAME

ate-tickling relish of a well tried Gloucester
fishing boot. The only way I can manage to
eat Coot is to use the breast meat alone, parboil
as before, score deeply and broil like a heef-
steak and season well. A bit of lemon juice
squeezed on it will help some, but it is doubtful
if one would care to regale one's self with it
more than twice a day for any length of time.
If the reader must experiment let me recom-
mend that he use a young bird in the early fall.
This duck is very hard to kill. He can carry
off a full charge of shot with no apparent diffi-
culty in his working parts, and unless the pel-
lets are placed in a vital spot there are few
chances of capturing him. If wounded severely
or wing-broken he dives at once and continues
diving and coming up to fill his air tank, often
just putting his nose above water to get his
breath and again going under to stay until he
has reached a safe distance. Despite his Dutch
model and somewhat clumsy appearance he
swims fast and well either upon or below the
surface, but his worst enemy cannot truthfully
accuse him of being a graceful bird ashore, for
he is heavy and chunky and at best his walk is
an awkward ' 'waddle." How do I know?

THE AMERICAN SCOTER 397

Well, just now there is under the window where
I write a male ''White-wing" whose broken
bones I have repaired and whose wounds I have
cured. Since his arrival he has been swagger-
ing about the yard snapping and hissing at cats,
dogs and fowls with all the independence of one
whose title to board and lodging is assured. I
have never seen a wild bird tame so easily.

There are three species of "Coots" in Amer-
ican waters, the "White-winged," the "Patch-
head," and the "Butter-billed." To this list
the fishermen will add two more, the "Gray
Coot" and the "Brown Coot." These are the
young of the other species. In the books these
ducks are "Scoters," but thus designated
the chances are that the birds will not be recog-
nized among our deep water gunners. This
name is seldom heard and when used is usually
distorted into "Scooters," — perhaps just as
appropriate. Tell these people that these birds
are not "Coots" and they will give you a look
full of pity for your ignorance, and perhaps
hint that there was a whole lot left out of your
mental outfit; yet these birds are about as far
removed from the true Coot as they well could
be.

398 FEATHERED GAME

Poor Coots! They are of little value from
any point of view, but it is sad to think of the
rapidity with which they are each year decreas-
ing in numbers. Ten years ago they might be
shot almost anywhere alongshore, but now a
fair day's shooting is quite hard to get. It is
safe to say that in the last ten years they have
diminished in numbers fully fifty per cent. At
present they are unprotected by any law and
are harassed and slaughtered from Labrador to
Florida. Spring and fall, it is all alike, the
seafowl of every kind know not a moment of
peace from the time the flocks leave the north
until their return thither next season.

Something should be done for them in the line
of protection. At the very least it is not right
to shoot them in the spring. Nothing more fa-
vorable to the increase of bird life of all kinds
could be accomplished than the enactment of a
law preventing all spring shooting, for by the
destruction of a pair of birds in the spring we
reduce the fall crop by at least four, not includ-
ing the original pair.

About the only species of seafowl which are
not decreasing with terrible rapidity are the
eiders. These are hardly holding their own in

THE AMERICAN SCOTER 399

the struggle for existence, though they have a
much better chance in that they make us their
visits at a time when only the "crankiest" of
gun cranks would think of braving the eold and
hardships of a shooting trip among the outer
islands. When a party goes out after "sea
ducks ' ' they never know when they will be per-
mitted to return. The exposed position of the
haunts of their game sometimes makes a return
to the mainland impossible for days if a storm
comes up; therefore winter shooting is not so
much followed.

The Coots are found in both the New and the
Old World.

The Butter-billed Coot, or American Scoter,
will probably average the smallest of our Coots,
though but little smaller than the ' ' Patch-head. ' '
In most localities the present species is the
least common of the three; a lover of "blue
water," seldom coming into the narrow arms
of the sea or tide-water, and only rarely taken
on the Great Lakes where his cousins, the
"Patch-head" and "White-winged" are not un-
common. In habits, breeding haunts and range
of migration the three do not differ materially,
on the eastern half of the continent the larger

400 FEATHERED GAME

number of this species nesting in northern Lab-
rador. The Butter-billed Coot is entirely
black save the nugget of gold which it so care-
fully balances upon its nose. The base of the
bill' is bright orange yellow, the rest plain black
to conform to the sad hue of its raiment. Iris
brown; feet blackish in male; olivaceous with
black webs in young male and female.

The female is a trifle smaller than the male
and of dusky brown color; bill lacking the gib-
bosity of the male and entirely black. Length
of this species from seventeen to twenty inches ;
extent from thirty to thirty-four inches.

Young or female birds in any stage of de-
velopment may be recognised (aside from color
of iris) by the fact that the feathering stops
short on the bill, not coming down nearly to the
nostrils on top as in the other species.

THE WHITE-WINGED COOT. "WHITE-
WING."

Oidemia deglandi.)

Best known and most numerous of the three
is the "White-winged Coot," known also as
the "White-winged Scoter," "Velvet Duck,'

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THE WHITE-WINGED COOT 401

' ' White-winged Surf Duck, ' ' or more commonly
and more simply as the "White-wing." This
species is more common in the bays and en-
closed arms of the sea than are the others, which
prefer the open water. The ' ' White-wing" also
is much larger in size. The habits of the three
are almost identical.

In breeding dress and full plumage the male
is glossy black all over except the white specu-
lum, (wing-mark), and a tiny spot below and
behind the eye. The bill with a large lump at
the base and feathered to the nostrils, black at
the base and on the edge to the nail, on the sides
the black merging into a purplish tinge, then
grading into deep red, whitening toward the
tip, the nail orange. Iris white or pale yellow ;
feet and legs deep orange or bright red
with black webs; these colors are duller in the
females.

The coloring of the female is of a brownish
cast, the edges of the feathers lighter. She has
the white speculum as in the male, also the knob
at the base of the bill, though this is not so
prominent as in the male. The bill is plain
black.

The White-winged Coot in any plumage may

402 FEATHERED GAME

be known by the white speculum. Young birds
are of a dull grayish cast.

The White-wing inhabits both coasts of North
America, the larger inland lakes, and is also
represented in the Old World by a species very
close to our own bird.

They breed through the interior from the
northern States of the Union northward into
the Arctic regions, and along both coasts of
North America north from the Gulf of St. Law-
rence in the east and from British Columbia in
the west, by far the greater number going well
beyond civilization. They make a large nest,
usually placed at the edge of some body of
fresh water, line it with down from their own
bodies, and in it lay from six to eight eggs.
They often breed far inland and a long way
from salt water. Though every season a good
sized flock summers among the outer islands of
Casco Bay there is no evidence of their breeding
there, and they are probably the crippled birds
left behind by the spring flight, unable to con-
tinue their journey at the time and so unmated.

Apparently slow and heavy, when once on the
wing their flight is powerful and often long
protracted, usually traveling low over the water

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THE PATCH-HEAD COOT 403

save when migrating, at which time they often
rise to a considerable height.

Their food consists of shell-fish, sea-weeds,
and small fish. Their meat is dark, and except
when it is from a young bird can scarcely be
considered eatable.

This is perhaps the most common duck of the
Atlantic coast.

THE PATCH-HEAD COOT.

(Oidemia perspicillata.)

Next of the Scoters in point of numbers is the
"Patch-head Coot," also called "Horse-head,"
"Goggle-nose," "Skunk-head," and other
equally romantic and euphonious titles. This
species is fairly abundant on the eastern coast
of North America, going farther south dur-
ing the winter months than does either of
the other two. They are not uncommon in
Florida, are found in the Great Lakes, and are
also abundant on the Pacific coast.

This bird breeds throughout the interior in
high latitudes and all along the northern coast
of the continent.

The male in breeding plumage is glossy black,

404 FEATHERED GAME

no white on wing or body, but a small patch on
the forehead and another on the back of the
head extending downward over the nape. It
is not uncommon to find one or the other of
these white spots missing in specimens. The
bill is peculiarly marked; orange and white, at
the base a squarish black patch edged with
carmine. Iris pale yellow ; feet and legs orange
with dusky webs. Propellers of the female are
duller in color, her bill black.

The female is a dull-colored, brownish-black
bird with no white on forehead or nape, but
some small splashes of grayish color on the
sides of the head, on the cheeks and ears.

Young males much like the females.

Length from eighteen to twenty inches; ex-
tent from thirty to thirty-three inches. Weight
from two to two and one-half pounds.

AMERICAN MERGANSER. POND
SHELLDRAKE. GOOSANDER.

(Merganser americanus.)

The Shelldrake has its representatives all
over the world, dwelling alike on the ocean or
on inland pond and stream. Three species of

AMERICAN MERGANSER 405

the family are regular residents of North Amer-
ica, and one Old World member of the race, the
"Smew" or "Nun," is an exceptionally rare
visitor on the northeastern coast line. All have
long, narrow, cylindrical bills with notched and
toothed edges — even the tongues are serrated
to hold more firmly when they close upon their
slippery prey, for this is a family of "fishing
ducks," and are sometimes called "Saw-bills"
from these saw-like teeth along the edges of
the bill. These barb-like lamellae are indispen-
sible to the owner, making the bill perfection
for its purpose and enabling the bird to hold
fast to all on which it closes, as tightly as a pol-
itician with a "pull."

Any one of the Shelldrakes is more than half
fish. Seen under the water in pursuit of a
breakfast or dodging about to escape capture
when wounded the resemblance to some finny
dweller of the sea is very marked; head and
neck outstretched, every feather hugged closely
to the body, the half-opened wings like large fins
aiding the feet in their work, he goes shooting
through the water like a flash.

The Shelldrake's body is more compressed
and somewhat longer in proportion to its size

406 FEATHERED GAME

than are the bodies of most ducks. This model
must be necessary, for none of the family need
such speed in the water as these which feed
upon an active prey which must often be pur-
sued some distance before it is captured. It
is a form easily driven through the air, too, if
we may argue anything from the forelaying
necessary to stop a crossing bird in shooting.

Shelldrakes are generally found in flocks
ranging from half-a-dozen to twenty, rarely
more except in migration. Commonly, unless
there is no danger, they place a watcher over
the flock while feeding. Usually all but the
bird on "sentry go" dive together while fish-
ing so as to leave less opportunity for their
prey to escape. Often they drive a school of
small fry into shoal water and pursuing them
into a narrow place may even force their vic-
tims high and dry ashore by their furious
rushes. In such a case they will almost finish
a school, for they are very voracious feeders.

The Goosander is the largest of the Amer-
ican Shelldrakes and somewhat rare in the sea
except in the winter months when the few that
do not go south are compelled to dwell upon
the salt water or in the cabinet of some collec-

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AMERICAN MERGANSER 407

tor. The male bird is a handsome fellow, with
a brilliant dark green head and neck. The un-
der parts of the body are of a delicate salmon
tint, growing fainter and changing to white on
the flanks and hinder parts; there are also
some fine dusky pencillings here. In stuffed
specimens the salmon tint below fades very
quickly, leaving scarcely a trace of itself.
Back and upper parts glossy black, fading to
ashy gray on the rump and tail. The wings
are mostly white above, crossed by a black
bar at the tips of the greater coverts and
forming a part of the frame for the white
speculum. The wing quills are dusky, nearly
black. The bill and feet are bright vermilion;
bill black on the ridge and having a black hook
on the end. Iris carmine. The male is but
slightly crested, this adornment being consider-
ably more prominent in the female, though even
here rather thin and loose-feathered.

The female's head and neck are reddish brown
in color, with a whitish throat. On the back a
dull, bluish gray. There is less of the salmon
tint below than appears in the dress of the male.
Speculum white. Bill and feet same color as
the male's, but iris yellowish.

408 FEATHERED GAME

These birds average about four and one-quar-
ter pounds weight for the males, the females
running from one-half pound to one pound less.
In length they vary from twenty-four to twenty-
seven inches; in extent about thirty-five.

They nest upon the ground or in the hollow of
a tree, laying from six to eight eggs. They
usually choose the edge of some secluded fresh
water pond for their home, but often make their
nest a long distance from water if unable to
find a suitable place near it. Safety is the
prime requisite — convenience comes after.
They breed anywhere from our northern States
into the Arctic regions and are one of the com-
monest of the breeding waterfowl on our Maine
lakes. They winter in moderate numbers in
our coast waters, though the greater bulk of
these birds have gone south at this season.

THE RED-BREASTED MERGANSER.

(Merganser serrator.)

Most common of all in New England coast
waters is the Red-breasted Merganser, the
Shelldrake alongshore, where many gunners
know no other species than this bird. He winters

RED-BREASTED MERGANSER 409

in our bays and rivers when lie can, preferring
tide-waters and the arms of the sea, but if this
is not permitted he can do very well "off shore"
and is one of the most numerous of the winter
dwellers on our coast. Still, the greater num-
ber have gone on to warmer climates, and Shell-
drakes are here in larger numbers during the
flight seasons than at any other time.

If in the latter half of April or the first of
May the gunner turns out before daylight and
takes his stand upon a lonely ledge or the point
of some uninhabited island of the sea and puts
out his wooden decoys in a life-like group within
good shot reach of the grim-fronted . rock be-
hind which he lies hidden, he is likely to find
good sport for two or three hours while the
Shelldrakes are flying in from "outside" where
they have been asleep on the breast of the At-
lantic.

The moon is paling and the stars are losing
their lustre. The day is coming and across the
eastern sky a pink light is creeping. The sleepy
world is rubbing its eyes and making ready for
its round of toil. The water is yet gray and
uncertain and the masses of the woods on the
islands round about are solid and sombre. But

410 FEATHERED GAME

a tiny little songsparrow, perched near by and
quivering with the joy of springtime, sends
forth his brave little song in merry greeting;
the awakened crow gives out an occasional caw-
ing as he starts forth from the pines for his
breakfast on the shore, and just out of range
of the watcher's gun a bunch of big blue herons
playing " follow my leader" passes by in slow
and dignified flight, northward bound. The de-
coys anchored across the gentle breeze are rid-
ing motionless in a calm streak under the shelter
of the ledge, but in plain sight and sure to be
noticed by any passing flock coming in from
sea, and all is ready.

While still too dark for him to shoot, the gun-
ner has seen shadowy forms flitting past in the
uncertain foreground, and now with the in-
creasing light comes the hurry and rustle of
wings carrying hungry birds to their feeding
grounds inshore.

Here they are! Where they came from no
one knows, for two seconds ago not a feather
was in sight, but out of the water they appear
as if by magic and are almost upon the gunner
before he sees them. They have sighted the
decoys and swing in toward their new-found

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KED-BREASTED MERGANSER 411

friends with wings stiffly set and necks out-
stretched. In this strange light they look as
large as geese. Now is the time! As they
bunch and wheel, convinced of the cheat, let go
at them with both barrels, and in answer to the
sudden roar of your discharge down go the
splashing forms of dead and wounded birds
among the motionless decoys. While the boom
of your gun goes echoing about from cape
to promontory in circuit of the bay as if
a battery was stationed on every headland, you
are hurrying down to the boat to gather up the
spoil. You pat yourself on the back — (mentally,
of course,) — and think, "What a streak of
shooting I have developed!" when, hello!
Only one bird! Ah, there is one more swim-
ming away and here another, and popping sud-
denly out of the depths still another, but most of
them active and doing their best to put a safe
distance between your dangerous company and
themselves, swimming with their bodies half
submerged and a watchful eye behind them.
You have reloaded and are now tugging as for
your life at the oars to gather in those that seem
to be the most active, and so pass by the dead as
they will keep until your return. But you don't

412 FEATHERED GAME

seem to gain much on the cripple and you think
you will try him with a charge of 4's. Bang!
and when the smoke has drifted aside — no
Shelldrake. He is under and won't come up
again inside of two hundred yards. After star-
ing in vain for this bird, which has come up very
cautiously and just poking his head above water
for a breath has as silently gone under again
for another stretch seaward, you turn your at-
tention to a second invalid which mayhap leads
you a similar chase. Perhaps you capture him
— perhaps not. Your chances are about even
on either bet. Just here you see a large flock
making off from your decoys, scared away by
your antics in the boat, so you decide to pick up
the dead and get back into the blind. As you
pull up to the two or three birds left limp and
lifeless in the water when you went out you find
them right side up again and not more than half
as dead as you had thought, and these, too, com-
mence making frantic efforts to get under water,
with what success their condition permits. One
gets almost under and is now politely "shak-
ing a day-day" with one red foot in the air, dis-
appearing entirely just as you pull trigger. If

RED-BREASTED MERGANSER 413

you have good luck you may get one bird, and
then back into the blind to try for more.

For two or three hours in the morning fair
sport may be had over decoys, but when the sun
is fairly on his daily round the birds are mostly
on their feeding grounds and not moving much,
so that few come near the "tolers." Now is
the time to "scull" them in the float. It is no
easy matter to get within killing distance of a
Shelldrake even in the innocent looking "gun-
ning punt," for he is by no means careless or
stupid. For my own part I think the labor is
too severe and the reward too uncertain, and
seldom take the trouble to pursue them in a
float, no matter how sharp an attack of "gun
fever" is upon me. "The game is hardly
worth the candle."

The flesh of this or any other of the family
save the Hooded Merganser is not noted for any
especial excellence as food, most people pre-
ferring to eat fish in its ordinary form.

The Red-breasted Merganser is smaller than
the Goosander and has a pronounced crest,
which, though thin and flimsy in the female, is
present in both sexes. The male bird's head is

414 FEATHERED GAME

rich, dark green, this color running down the
neck, stopping abruptly on the lower neck and
breast. In front the white becomes a very light
reddish brown, streaked with black. Under-
neath a very light salmon color. Wing for the
most part black, but with a few feathers in the
front of it pure white with black edges. Upper
back black, also interscapulars and inner scap-
ulars. Lower back grey, waved with darker
gray and dusky. Bill vermilion red, dusky on
top and black hooked. Iris bright red ; feet ver-
milion.

The female is clad in a modest suit of gray
and white. The head and upper neck is a
brownish red with a patch of white on the throat
and chin, this shading gradually into the red-
dish color of the head. The upper parts ashy
or bluish gray ; below white. A white patch in
the wing. Feet, iris and bill as in the male bird.
The females of this and the preceding species
are very similar in their dress but may usually
be distinguished by their size, the female of
this bird being much smaller and lacking much
of the delicate salmon tinge on the under parts,
but if there is any doubt the position of the
nostril will show to which species a specimen

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HOODED MERGANSER 415

belongs, the Goosander's being placed near the
middle of the bill and that of the present species
being placed near the base.

The length of this species is from twenty-
two to twenty-four inches; its extent from
thirty-three to thirty-five inches. Weight from
two to two and one-half pounds.

Most of the Shelldrakes nest well beyond our
borders, but breeding birds of this species are
not uncommon in Maine. It is found also in
northern Europe and Asia.

HOODED MERGANSER.

(Lophodytes cucullatus.)

The smallest and most strikingly marked
species of the family which we have in North
America is our beautiful little Hooded Mergan-
ser. In New England this is the least common
of our Shelldrakes, and this species is found
only in North America.

In many localities of the south and west this
bird is called the "Wood Duck." Indeed it
deserves the title nearly as well as does the
bird which we have so named in New England,
having the same habit of nesting in the hollows

416 FEATHERED GAME

of dead stubs, and in traveling about among
the branches it is equally expert with our Sum-
mer Duck.

This Merganser breeds all through the United
States and northward, wintering from the Mid-
dle States south to the Gulf of Mexico. The
nest ready for the hatching contains from six
to eight buff-colored eggs. "When the infants
are old enough, if the nest is distant from pond
or stream, the mother bird carries them in her
beak and puts them down on the edges of the
water one after another, until her brood is at
the new home where she plans to put the fin-
ishing touches to their education.

Their life, like that of most ducklings, is a
most uncertain affair, likely to be terminated
at any minute by the sudden snap of hungry
mink or predatory hawk — even the finny
dweller of the pond showing an appreciative
taste in the direction of tender young ducks.
But the baby Shelldrake of either species is far
and away more lively and better able to take
care of himself than is any other young duck of
his age, and when he gets his growth will avenge
his family's wrongs upon the enemy, whether

HOODED MERGANSER 417

bass or pickerel, by eating thousands of small
fry.

The male bird has his crest evenly and clean-
ly cut; from forehead to nape a large white
area of hair-like feathers, bordered and sharply
defined with jet black, this color also on head,
neck and upper parts; lower part of neck and
under parts white; the sides and flanks brown-
ish red, finely and evenly pencilled with black
lines. White speculum in wing, with two black
bars crossing it. Bill black; eyes yellow, feet
light brown with black nails.

The head and neck of the female is a grayish
brown, darker on the crown. Upper parts and
sides a dull dark brown. Feet, eyes and bill
as in the male.

The length of this species is about eighteen
inches; the extent from twenty-four to twenty-
six inches.

This species is much more of a vegetarian
than any other of the family, and in conse-
quence its flesh ranks higher as food. As a
table bird it is nearly as good as any of the
shoal water ducks.

418 FEATHERED GAME

THE KUDDY DUCK.

(Erismatura jamaicensis.)

This is strictly an American species. Its
range is the whole North American continent,
except possibly the northwest coast, passing
southward through the West Indies and Cen-
tral America to the northern shores of South
America. In any part of this vast extent of
country it is likely to be found during the
breeding season, making for so small a fowl a
large nest, near either salt or fresh water, and
as often as not, building on some floating mass
of rubbish, making a sort of houseboat for the
family during the hot weather. The clutch of
eggs is larger than is common in a duck's nest
— sometimes a dozen or more to a setting, gen-
erally of pale buff color and quite large in pro-
portion to the size of the bird. As to its choice
of breeding country and the range of its travels,
any place where there is water enough to float
a duck and food enough either of vegetable
matter or of shellfish to keep its little body
plump upon is apt to receive a call from this
small rover.

THE RUDDY DUCK 419

I must confess to a certain fondness for this
small citizen. He is a most interesting little
chap and a mighty sweet morsel to put before
your company at the table. His flesh is really
very good and of delicate flavor. He is a vege-
table feeder when he may have his choice in the
matter.

The ''Ruddy" is much less suspicious of his
enemies than most waterfowl, and the de-
stroyer, if he chooses, may sit up without any
precaution and paddle close up to their flocks
on the water, delivering his fire at what range
he may prefer. If there are any survivors
from the first discharge it will not commonly
be a matter of difficulty to get another shot, for
they will probably spatter along the water for
a hundred yards or so, making a great fuss
about getting under way, and as soon as they
are fairly into the air dropping into the water
again without checking their speed, sliding
along the surface and scattering spray like a
"whistler," but allowing the second approach
to be made with hardly more trouble than be-
fore. The wings are small in proportion to
their chunky little bodies and their flight at the
outset is heavy and labored, but once fairly

420 FEATHERED GAME

going they fly fast, their wings making consid-
erable noise from their rapid motion. "With all
these drawbacks the Ruddy is wonderfully
quick either in the air or on the water. He is
quite capable of taking care of himself once he
gets it into his head that harm is intended. He
can get under water with a celerity that falls
little short of the marvelous. One of his tricks
has always been a mystery to me : he will sink
himself completely beneath the surface without
diving — simply settles down like a sinking
craft and beats a retreat under water where
he is as much at home as any duck of them all.
I have seen black ducks when they thought
themselves undiscovered and their wit said it
was dangerous to fly, sink themselves so that
only the head showed above water, and have
seen shelldrakes settle down in the same style
until only their heads were visible and so go
darting and zig-zagging away when they had
flown in and settled among a bunch of decoys
before discovering the cheat, but I have never
seen any of these go completely below the sur-
face without an attempt at diving as does the
Ruddy.

On the water he rides so much deeper than

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THE RUDDY DUCK 421

his neighbors that he looks like a craft danger-
ously overloaded. In swimming he often erects
his spiny tail straight over his back and jets it
in fan fashion, presenting a curious appearance
as if using it for a sail.

His feet are proportionately large, but Mr.
Ruddy is amply able to manage them and swims
easily and at good speed.

The Ruddy will decoy to anything in the
shape of ducks and be glad of the chance. The
bird is called by a dozen or more titles — any
name from teal to coot will do — but most of
them meanly twit him of the scrubbing brush
which he wears in the place of a tail, such as,
"Stiff Tail," "Spine Tail," "Broad-billed
Coot," "Bumblebee Coot," "Salt Water Teal,"
and "Gray Teal." The last two are the names
to give him when you wish to sell him. The
average man will praise any duck's flesh if he
thinks it is a "teal."

For a short time in the spring, about the sea-
son of the Easter bonnet and the relapse into
the church-going habit by the young man of
fashion, the Ruddy Duck blossoms out in a suit
which is the equal in style of any donned by
his broad-footed neighbors. Brightly colored

422 FEATHERED GAME

but neither flashy nor gaudy, it is a beautiful
garb and the pity is that it does not last longer.
The upper part of the head and nape glossy
black. Sides of head, cheeks and chin white.
Throat, neck all around, scapulars, flanks and
upper back chestnut red. Wing coverts, rump
and lower back grayish brown. Wing quills
dusky brown, spotted on the edges with gray.
Tail dusky brown, the feathers stiff and harsh
and the coverts growing to no great length over
the quills. Under parts silvery white, slightly
rusted on the breast. Under tail coverts
grayish or white. Bill, legs and feet grayish
blue; webs darker, nearly black. Iris reddish
brown. Length from fifteen to sixteen and one-
half inches; extent from twenty to twenty-four
inches.

The female is of duller hues than her mate —
the rule in duck coloring. On the top of the
head dark brown instead of the jet black of the
male. Cheeks only a little lighter than the rest
of the face, with a narrow stripe of white run-
ning from the base of the bill beneath the eye
to the nape. Chin white. Neck and throat
brownish ; upper breast yellowish brown ; lower
parts silvery white; flanks barred with brown;

THE BUDDY DUCK 423

tail same color as the back; under tail coverts
white. She is a bit smaller than the male.

This species can hardly be mistaken for any
other duck of the northeast if notice is given to
the peculiarities of the tail feathers and the
shortness of their coverts.

INDEX

A.

Actitis macularia

Actodromas bairdii

" fuscicollis . . .

maculata
minutilla . . .

iEgialitis meloda

" " circum-

cincta

^Egialitis nivosa

semipalmata . . .

Aix sponsa

americana

American Avocet

Dunlin

Eider

" " nest of..

371
" Golden-eye, 341

" " " nest

" " Plover. .

Merganser . . . .
" Oyster Catcher.

" Scoter

Snipe

" Widgeon

" Woodcock

Anas boschas

" obscura

" rubripes. . . .
Anser albifrons gambeli..

Arenaria morinella

Arquatella maritima

Avocet

Aythya affinis

" americana

" collaris

" marila

" vallisneria

B.

193 Baird's Sandpiper 151

151 Barrow's Golden-eye 351

153 Bartram's Sandpiper ....201

159 " " nest

153 and eggs 202

88 Bartramia longicauda 201

Beach Bird 168

89 Beetlehead Plover 70-169

86 " " nest

85 " -breasted Plover .... 70

318 Belted Piping Plover 86

327 Birch Partridge 6, 16

qir Black-bellied Sandpiper. . .166

16q " Brant 273

oni " -breasted Plover ... . 70

" Duck, 181, 274, 279,

372 295, 307, 313, 314, 420

0K7 " nest and eggs

343 of 285

wo Black Gsouse 1

4Q4 " Head 339

qi " -headed Turnstone.. 97

39J " Mallard 289

i on " Oyster-Catcher .... 92

295 " Rail 238, 239

jng Blarting Duck 294

9„. Bluebill, Greater 334

7,1% " " nest of, 335

'a " Lesser 337

£1* Blue-winged Teal, 300,

„* 301, 304

94 Bob White 57

1^3 Bonaparte's Sandpiper. .. .158

97 Bonasa 66

337 " umbellus 16

326 " " sabini... 17

340 " " togata.. 18

334 " « umbel-

331 loides 17

425

426

INDEX

Brant Goose 270

" Black 273

Branta bernicla glaucogas-

tra 270

Branta canadensis 252

" " hutch-

insii 269

Brent Goose 273

Brewer's Duck 289

Bridal Duck 318

Broadbill 334

Coot 421

Brownback 145, 172

Brown Coot 397

Buff-breasted Sandpiper. . .214

Bufflehead 354

nest of 355

Bull-bead 70

Bumblebee Coot 421

Burrowing of Grouse, 21,

22, 23
" " Ptarmigan, 56

Butterball 354

Butter-billed Coot... 390, 397

C.

Calico Back 94

Calidris arenaria 168

Camptolaimus labradorius,368
Canachites canadensis ... . 1
Canada Goose ..248, 252, 269

" nest of 267

Canada Grouse 1

Canvasback;, 279, 296, 297,

327, 331
" nesting of.. . .331

Carolina Rail 231

Cbaradrius dominicus 78

Chaulelasmus streperus. . .291

Chen hyperborea 250

" " nivalis. .248

" rossii 250

Chicken Plover 94

Chicken, Prairie, 4, 10, 11,

12, 13

Chucklehead 70

Cinnamon Teal 301, 306

Clangula americana 341

" islandica 351

Clapper Rail 227

'Cocks 113-116

Cocker Spaniel 34

Colinus virginianus 57

Common Brant 270

Coot 243, 245, 359, 379

" Butter-billed 390

" Broad-billed 421

" Brown 397

" Bumblebee 421

" Gray 397

" Goggle-nose 404

" Horse-head 404

" Patch-head 404

" Skunk-head 404

" White-winged 400

Corn Crake 240

Creek Duck 294

Crex crex 240

Crow Duck 245

Crymophilus fulicarius. . . 101

Curlew .. . .• 75

" Esquimaux 220

" Hudsonian 218

" Jack 218

Sickle-billed 215

D.

Dafila acuta

Diaz' Duck

Dipper

Dough Bird

Dowitcher 145, 149,

Drumming of Grouse . . 23,

" Snipe

" Woodcock,
109,
Duck, American Eider ....
" Barrow's Golden-
eye

Duck, Black

" Mallard

" Bridal

" Canvasback . .

" Cinnamon Teal, 301

Crow
Diaz' .
Dusky

312
289
354
220
168
24
131

110
371

351

279
289
318
331

306
.245
.289
.279

INDEX

427

Duck, Eider, 371

" Florida Black 288

" Gadwall 291

" Gray 291

" Golden-eyed 341

" Greater Scaup 326

" Harlequin 365

" Hudson Bay... 288, 291

King Eider 387

" Labrador 368

" Lesser Scaup 337

Long- tailed 357

" Mallard 274

" Mandarin 319

" Pintail 312

" Raft 339

" Red-head 326

" Ring-necked 340

" River 294, 297

Ruddy 418

" Sea 332, 371

" Scaup 334

" Scoter

" " American . . . 390
" Patch-head.. 404
White-
winged 400

Duck,"Shoveller 308

Spirit 354

" Spoonbill 308

" Sprigtail 312

" Summer 318

" Surf 332, 379

Texan 288

" Widgeon 295

" " European,300

" Wood 318

" Velvet 400

Dusky Duck 279

E.

Eider, American 371, 388

" -down 371

" Greenland 386

" King 387

English Snipe... 130, 131, 160

Sparrow 95, 237

Ereunetes pusillus 153

Erismatura jamaicensis. . .418

Esquimaux Curlew 220

European Corn Crake 240

Eider 386

Teal.. 301, 302, 303

" Widgeon 300

" Woodcock 122

F.

Fall Snipe 167

Flapper 286

Float, Gunning, 255, 257,

336, 392

Floridan Black Duck 288

Florida Gallinule 241, 242

Fool Hen 6

Franklin's Grouse 1, 9

Fulica americana 245

G.

Gadwall 291

Gallinago delicata 130

Gallinules 245

Gallinule, Florida. .241, 242

Gallinula galeata 242

Gallinule, Purple 241

nest 241

Game protection 127

Godwit, Great Marbled. .. 172

" Hudsonian 174

Goggle-nose 404

Golden-eyed Duck 341

" " Barrow's

351

Golden Plover 74, 76, 78

Geese, long-necked 269

" short-necked 269

Goosander 404, 414

Goose 125, 313

" Brant 273

" Brent 273

" Burnt 273

" Canada 252

" Greater Snow 248

" Hutchins' 269

" Lesser Snow 250

" Ross' Snow 250

" White-fronted 251

Grassbird. . .138, 144, 152,

159, 168, 183, 200

428

INDEX

Grass Plover 201

" Snipe 160

Gray Back 170

« Coot 397

" Duck 291, 315

" Ruffed Grouse 17

" Teal 421

Greater Bluebill 334

Scaup 334

" Snow Goose 248

" Yellow-legs . . . 144,

176, 177, 197

Great Marbled Godwit 172

" " " nest,173

Grebe 245

Greenland Eider, 372, 386, 387

Green-winged Teal 300,

306, 308

Grouse dog 47, 48, 49

" Pinnated 14

Ruffed 16

" Spruce 1

" Willow 51

Gunning float... 255, 257,

336, 392

H.

Haematopus palliatus 91

Harelda hyemalis 357

Harlequin Duck 365

" " nest of... 367
Heath Hen 9

" " nest and eggs. . 14

Helodromas solitarius 188

Hen, Prairie 11

Himantopus mexicanus . . . 99
Histrionicus histrionicus. . 365
Hooded Merganser . . .125,

414, 415
nest of

415, 416

Honker 266

Horse-head Coot 403

Hound 362

Hudson Bay Duck... 287, 291
Hudsonian Curlew. . .218, 221

Godwit 174

" " nest. . .175
Hutehin's Goose 269

I.

Ionornis martinica 241

J.

Jack Curlew 218

" Snipe 130, 160

K.

Kildee 83

Kildeer Plover 83

King Eider 370, 387

" " nesting of.... 390

" Rail 223

Knot 170

L.

Labrador Duck 368

Twisters 126

Lagopus lagopus 51

Lawyer 100

Least Sandpiper 153

Lesser Bluebill 337

Snow Goose 250

Yellow-legs. ..150, 186
Limosa fedoa 172

" hsemastica 174

Longbill...ll5, 122, 127, 161
Long-billed Dowitcher. . . . 148

" -necked Geese 269

Longshanks 100

Long-tail 359

Long-tailed Duck 357

Lophodytes cucullatus. . . .415
Lord and Lady 365

M.
Macrorhamphus griseus. . .145
Macrorhamphus griseus

scolopaceus 148

Mallard Duck.. 274, 279,

292, 314, 388
" " nest and

eggs 275

Mallard Duck, Black 289

Greenland. 276

Mandarin Duck 319

Mareca americana 295

Marsh Plover 160

Meadow Snipe 160

INDEX

429

Merganser americanus. . . .404
" redbreasted ...408

" serrator 408

Micropalama himantopus . 149

Mongrels 385

Mud Hen 243, 245

" " nest and eggs . . . 246

N.

Nettion carolinensis 300

Numenius borealis 220

" hudsonicus . . .

218, 220

" longirostris .. .215

Nun 405

O.
Octhodromus wilsonius ... 90

Oideniia americana 390

" deglandi 400

perspicillata ....404

Old Injun 362

" Squaw, 312, 357, 362, 378

" Wife 362

Oregon grouse 17

Ox-eye 70

Oxyechus vociferus 83

P.

Pale-belly 78

Pale Ring-neck 88

Partridge 16

Birch 16

Spruce 1

Patch-head Coot, 397, 399, 403

Pavoncella pugnax 199

Pectoral Sandpiper 152

Pelidna alpina sakhalina. .166

Peeps 151, 152, 153

Peet-Weet 193

Phalaropus lobatus 102

Phalarope, Northern 102

Red 101

" " -necked . . .102

" Wilson's 105

Pheasant 16

Philohela minor 108

Pinnated grouse

Pintail Duck. ..279, 312,

Piping Plover

Plover

" Beetlehead

" Belted Piping

Black-breasted . . . .

" Bull-head

" Chuckle-head

" Golden 74, 76

" Grass

" Greater yellow legs

" Kildeer

" Lesser yellow-legs.

" Marsh

" Ox-eye

" Pale ring-necked . .

" Piping

" Ring

Rini^-necked

" Rock

" Semipalmated . . . .

" Snowy

" Swiss

Upland 125,

" Wilson's

" Yellow-leg

Pond Shelldrake

Porzana Carolina

" jamaicensis

" noveboracensis . .

Prairie Chicken ....9, 10,

Hen

" Pigeon

Ptarmigan

Purple Gallinule

" Sandpiper

14

388

88

223

70

89

70

70

70

, 78

201

177

83

,186

160

70

88

88

83

85

94

85

86

70

201

90

177

404

231

239

237

14

11

201

51

241

163

Q.

Quail

4, 57

flight of 57, 66, 67

forage for 59

liberation of 58

nest of 60

retention of scent

by 67

Querquedula discors 304

430

INDEX

E.

Raft Duck 339

Rails 180

Rail, Black 239

" Carolina 231

Clapper 227

" King 223

Sora 231

Virginia 229

Yellow 237

Rallus crepitans 227

" elegans 223

" virginianus 229

Recurvirostra americana. . 97

Red-backed Sandpiper . . . 166

" -breasted Merganser . .408

" " Sandpiper .170

Snipe 145

Teal 301

Red-head Duck, 279, 326, 333

Red Phalarope 101

" -necked Phalarope. . . . 102

Reeve 199

Ring-necked Duck 340

Ring-necks. .85, 88, 168, 169

" Pale 88

River ducks 294, 297, 314

Robin Snipe 170

Rock Plover 94

Rockweed Bird 163

Rocky Mountain Garrot..351

Ruddy Duck 315, 418

" " nest of 418

Ruff 199

Ruffed Grouse 1,

2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 11, 12,
16, 53, 68, 121, 128, 129
Ruffed Grouse, burrowing

21, 22, 23
" " defense of

young 26, 27

Ruffed Grouse, drumming

23, 24, 25
flight of

30-33
" " nest of . . 25

" " towering. 44

" treeing . .

33, 34, 35

S.

Sabine's Grouse 17, 18

Sale of game 127

Salt Water Teal 421

Sanderling 168

Sandpipers 170

Band's 151

Bartram's 201

Black-bellied ..166

" Bonaparte's ...158

Buff-breasted ..214

Least 153

Pectoral 159

Purple 163

Red-backed .... 166
" " -breasted . .170

" Semipalmated . . 153

Solitary 188

Spotted 193

Stilt 149

" White-rumped . . 153

Sawbills 405

Scaup 339

" Duck 334, 340

Scooters 397

Scoter, American 390

" Patch-head 404

" White-winged 400

Sea Duck 369, 371, 387

" King 387

" Geese 103

Semipalmated Plover ....

85, 88, 89
" Sandpiper. .153

Shelldrakes 378, 404, 420

Shelldrake, Hooded 415

Pond 404

" Red-breasted. ,408

Short-necked Geese 269

Shoveller Duck 308

Shufflers 339

Sickle-billed Curlew, 215, 219

Skunk-head Coot 403

Smew 405

Snipe 125, 130, 181, 183

" American 130

" drumming of 132

" English 130

" Fall 167

INDEX

431

Snipe, flight of 136, 137

" Grass 100

" Jack 100

" Meadow 100

" nest of 132

" Robin 170

" Wilson's 130

Snow Goose, Greater ....248

" " Lesser 250

« " Ross' 250

Snowy Plover 86

Solitary Sandpiper 188

" " nesting. 192

Somateria dresseri 371

" mollissima ....386

" spectabilis .... 387

Sora Rail 230, 231

Spaniel 233, 234

Spatula elypeata 308

Speckle-bellies 251

Spine-tail 421

Spirit Duck 354

Spoonbill Duck 308

Spotted Sandpiper. ..189, 193
" " nest . . .195

" " young. .

195, 196

Sprigtail 312

Spring shooting, stopping.

127, 398

Spruce Grouse 1, 56

" " nest of . . .3, 4

" " strutting. . . 7

" Partridge 1

Squatarola squatarola ... 70

Squaw, Old 357

Steganopus tricolor 105

Stiff-tail 421

Stilt 99, 100

" Sandpiper 149

Summer 183, 198

Duck 318

Yellow-legs.. 184, 185
180, 190

Surf Duck 380

Swamp Partridge 1

Swiss Plover 70

Symphemia semipalmata,.

172, 175, 176

Tattler 177, 183

Teal 144, 315

" Blue-winged 304

" Cinnamon 301, 306

" European ..301, 302, 303

" Gray 421

" Green-winged 300

" Red-breasted 301

" Salt Water 421

Teeter- Bob 198

" -Tail 198

Tell-Tale 177

Texan Black Duck 288

Timberdoodle....47, 121, 123

Tip-up 198

Togata 20

Totanus 177

" flavipes 186

" melanoleucus .... 17 /

Tringa canutus 170

Tryngites subruticollis. . . .214

Turnstone 94, 95

Tympanuchus cupido .... 9

U.

Upland Plover 121,

151, 173, 201, 214, 218, 222

V.

Velvet Duck 400

Virginia Rail

226, 228, 229, 237

W.
Whistler, 125, 341, 352,

354, 355, 419

nest of 343

" Rocky Mountain. 351
Whistling Field Plover.. 70

White-billed Mud Hen 245

" -fronted Goose 251

" -rumped Sandpiper.

152, 153

" -wing 400

White-winged Coot

397, 399, 400
Widgeon 295, 315

432

INDEX

.Widgeon nest 296

" European 300

Wild celery 296, 332

Willet 175, 176

Willow Grouse 51

" dwarf 52

Wilson's Phalarope. .104, 105

Wilson's Plover 86, 90

" nest of . . . 90

Wilson's Snipe

130, 145, 146, 160, 183, 187
Wilson's Snipe, drumming

of 131

Winter 189, 208

" Yellow-leg ...117, 190
Woodcock, 32, 49, 66, 68,

108, 134

Woodcock, love-making of . .

109, 110

nest of 108, 109

" song of 110

" perching habit . .

124, 125

Woodcocking 48

Wood Duck, 125, 314, 318,

388, 415
" " nesting of . . . .

321, 322

Yellow-legs, Greater . . 144,

171, 177, 197
" Lesser ..186, 197

" -shanks 176

Yellow Rail 237

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

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