PRAIRIE SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. 137 
There seems to be no spot especially favored by the 
hen as a site for the nest, so long as it affords suitable 
concealment. With the shelter of some bush, along the 
bank of a stream where the cover is somewhat dense, 
or in the midst of a clump of weeds, in thickets on the 
hillside, or in a bunch of grass out on the open prairie, 
she is equally satisfied, and in a slight hollow arched over 
with grass deposits her eggs. These are precisely 
like those of the Columbian Sharp-tailed Grouse, and the 
usual number in a clutch is about a dozen, though some- 
times considerably more are laid, and but one brood is 
raised in a season. The hen is a very close sitter, and 
her plumage harmonizes so well with her surroundings 
that it is a very difficult matter to discover her on the 
nest. In about three weeks the chicks appear, and the 
mother is very solicitous for their welfare, leading them 
in search of insects, which at first comprise their means of 
subsistence, and keeping them near some thickets where 
they can easily hide on the approach of danger. She 
clucks to them like a domestic hen, and shelters them 
under her wings from the storm. In spite of all her care 
many a downy chick disappears, borne away in the talons 
of some Hawk which has swooped suddenly upon the 
brood from an unlooked for quarter, or else a watchful 
fox or other quadruped, or gliding snake, has snatched 
one of the little creatures as it chased some flying insect. 
Not many of the members of a brood that is hatched 
reach maturity, for numerous vacancies from various 
causes are usually created in the ranks. Toward the last 
of September the young are about full grown, and at this 
time they lie well to the dog, and generally are not wild. 
The flock does not rise simultaneously, always some of 
its members remaining after the others are well upon the 
wing. As they flush they utter a cackling cry, and this 
