218 THE PTARMIGAN 
seeking the shady sides of the mountains. Only when the northern 
regions or lofty mountains are so thickly covered with snow as to 
threaten it with starvation does it repair to districts where the cold 
is somewhat mitigated, but never lower into the valleys than where 
it may quench its thirst with snow. ‘The male bird’, says a field 
naturalist, ‘has been seen, during a snow-storm in Norway, to 
perch himself on a rock which overtopped the rest, and to sit 
there for some time as if enjoying the cold wind and sleet, which 
was drifting in his face; just as one might have done on a sultry 
summer’s day on the top of the Wiltshire downs, when a cool air 
was stirring there.’4 The same writer observes: ‘‘ I have generally 
found the Ptarmigan concealed among the grey, lichen-coloured 
rocks on the summits of the fjelds, and so closely do they resemble 
these rocks in colour that I could scarcely ever see them on the 
ground ; and sometimes when the practised eye of my guide found 
them, and he would point out the exact spot, it was not until after 
a long scrutiny that I could distinguish the bird within a dozen 
yards of me. Frequently we would find them on the snow itself, 
and many a time has a large circular depression in the snow been 
pointed out to me, where the Ptarmigan has been lying and pluming 
himself in his chilly bed. He isa noble bird, free as air, and for the 
most part uninterrupted in his wide domain; he can range over the 
enormous tracts of fjeld, seldom roused by a human step, and still 
more seldom hunted by man. When the winter clothes his dwelling 
in a garb of snow, he arrays himself in the purest and most beautiful 
white ; when the summer sun melts away the snow, and the grey 
rocks appear, he, too, puts on his coloured dress, and assimilates 
himself once more to his beloved rocks. But the young Ptarmigans 
are my especial favourites: I have caught them of all ages ; some 
apparently just emerged from the egg, others some weeks older ; 
they are remarkably pretty little birds, with their short black beaks 
and their feathered toes ; and so quickly do they run, and so nimble 
and active are they in escaping from you, that they are soon beneath 
some projecting stone, far beyond the reach of your arm, where you 
hear them chirping and calling out in defiance and derision. The 
call of the old Ptarmigan is singularly loud and hoarse ; it is a pro- 
longed grating, harsh note, and may be heard at a great distance.’ 
This has been compared to the scream of the Missel Thrush; but 
Macgillivray says it seems to him more like the croak of a frog. 
Ptarmigans pair early in spring, and build their nest of grass, 
bents and twigs in a slight hollow behind a stone or bush, and lay 
from seven to twelve eggs. The young are able to run about as 
soon as they are hatched, and, as we have seen, are most expert 
and nimble in concealing themselves. The hen bird when surprised 
with her young brood counterfeits lameness, and runs about in 
1 Rev, A. C. Smith, in the Zoologist, vol. viii. p. 2977. 
