42 THE MOTHER’S STRATAGEM. 
is always placed on the ground under a fallen 
log, or at the foot of a bush; and is composed of 
a quantity of dead leaves, lined with dry grass, 
bits of moss, and a few feathers. From ten to 
fourteen eggs are about the average number I 
have found; in colour, dirty white, without any 
spots, or freckles of darker brown. I think I 
must have found at least ten nests in one swamp, 
near the Spokan prairies, en route to the Rocky 
Mountains. 
The moment they are clear of the egg, the 
chickens leave the nest and follow the mother. 
She calls them with a’ kind of clucking sound 
just like a hen, and covers them when resting. 
Like most of her tribe, the mother uses all kinds 
of feints and stratagems to lure an intruder from 
her young. I have seen an old hen ruffed grouse ° 
flutter along close to my feet, as if her legs and. 
wings were entirely disabled, allowing me to 
almost put my hand upon her; having thus de- 
coyed me on and on, until her chickens had time 
to conceal themselves, she would dart suddenly 
off, I daresay thinking how cleverly she had 
‘fooled me.’ It is a curious thing that this 
grouse when frightened rises with a loud rattling 
noise, but when it rises of its own free will, it is 
as noiseless as the flight of an owl. I have 
‘often, when lying down watching them, seen the 
