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Bird - Lore 



roots of a prostrate tree on the other side of which was the watchful Grouse. 

 I held my breath while I peered around the earthwork which clung to the roots 

 and discovered the tail-feathers of the drumming bird braced across the log, 

 scarcely ten inches from my nose ! 



The use of a denim blind makes crawling unnecessary, and from this shelter, 

 if you have set it up with caution and entered it before dawn, you may watch 

 the drumming with comparative comfort. I have often been grateful to the 

 naturalist who by this simple but effective method of concealment first beguiled 

 the birds in their innocency. Hidden from all espionage beneath its folds of 

 dappled green, I have watched the cock Grouse walk to his drum-log with 

 noisy footsteps, confident after an hour of stealthy reconnoitering that no 

 hostile eye intruded on his privacy. Here he felt safe to indulge his vanity 

 and preened each feather, disarranged by the abandon of his resounding wings. 

 To this log at the top of a second-growth ridge he repaired each morning while 

 the stars were yet bright above the tree tops, greeted the dawn with his thunder, 

 and stole away again before the sun was high. 



The sounds of spring have each their haunting appeal, from the peeping of 

 the hylas to the Woodcock's eerie song among the stars, but for me the vibrant 

 drum-beat of the Ruffed Grouse, throbbing on the moist spring air, beckons 

 me to the wildness of the hills with a voice that will not be denied. 



SHORT-EARED o\\ I. 



Photographed by J. H. McClelland, Arnegard, North I'Aotj 



