40 A DRUMMER WITHOUT A DRUM. 



chickens are hatched, the male produces that ex- 

 traordinary sound called 'drumming.' Again and 

 ao-ain have I sat and watched the proceeding. 



O 



There is a solemn quiet an almost deathlike 

 silence pervading these mighty wilds of the far 

 North- West, unlike anything we can conceive 

 where the hand of civilisation has been busy. The 

 bird squats on a log or fallen tree, motionless, as 

 though it had no life ; suddenly, all the feathers 

 are, as it were, reversed ; tail erect, like a strut- 

 tin o- turkey-cock; the ruff round its neck stands 

 out, stiff and rigid, and the wings droop on either 

 side of the log as if broken. They slowly vibrate, 

 and then produce a sound, loud and clear, like 

 the thrum of a double-bass string; faster and 

 faster it comes, as the wings move with greater 

 rapidity, until the beats have no distinctness, 

 and the sound has become a throbbing hum. 

 He suddenly ceases, and after a few minutes' 

 ' rest goes through the same performance. 



Perhaps the stillness I have referred to induces 

 one to imagine the sound to be louder than it 

 really is ; but if one did not see the bird, and did 

 not know whence the sound came, a fertile brain 

 could easily imagine it some demon drummer in 

 active employment. For what purpose this 

 sound is produced I am by no means clear: 



