520 THE BIRDS OF MANITOBA THOMPSON. 



their ordinary alarm note, a peculiar vibratory " cack, cade, each''' This 

 is nearly always uttered simultaneously with the beating of the wings, 

 and so rarely, except under these circumstances, that at first I sup- 

 posed it was caused by the wings alone, but since have heard the 

 sound both when the birds were sailing and when they were on the 

 ground, besides seeing them fly off silently. They have also a call — a 

 soft, clear whistle of three slurred notes; E A D — and a sort of grur.t of 

 alarm, which is joined in by the pack as they fly off. Their mode of 

 flight is to flap and sail by turns every 40 or 50 yards, and so rapid 

 and strong are they on the wing that I have seen a chicken save itself 

 by its swiftness from the first swoop of a Peregrine Falcon, while an- 

 other was seen to escape by flight from a Snowy Owl. 



The nest of this species is placed in the long, rank grass under some 

 tuft that will aid in its concealment, and is usually not far from a tract 

 of brush land or other cover. It is little more than a slight hollow in 

 the ground, arched over by the grass. The eggs, usually fourteen, but 

 sometimes fifteen or sixteen in number, are no larger than those of the 

 common pigeon, and are actually smaller than those of the Upland 

 Plover, a bird which is only one-eighth of the chicken's weight. Im- 

 mediately before expulsion they are of a delicate bluish green ; on being 

 laid they show a purplish grape-like bloom ; after a few days expos- 

 ure they become of a deep chocolate brown, with a few dark spots. 

 After a fortnight has transpired they are usually of a dirty white; this 

 change is partly due to bleaching and partly to the scratching they 

 receive from the mother's bill and feet. 



A partial history of the young in a wild state is briefly as fol- 

 lows: At the age of 6 weeks they are fully feathered and at 2 months 

 fully grown, although still under guidance of the mother at this time. 

 There is usually not more than six oi' seven young ones left out of the 

 original average brood of fifteen, which statement shows the number 

 of chicks which fall a prey to their natural enemies, while many sets 

 of eggs also are destroyed by the fires which annually devastate the 

 prairies. As the fall atlvances they gather more and more into flocks 

 and become regular visitors to the stubble fields, and, in consequence, 

 regular articles of diet wilh the farmers until the first fall of snow 

 buries their fo: aging grounds and drives them en masse to the wrods. 



During the summer the habits of the chickens are eminently terres- 

 trial; they live, feed, and sleep almost exclusively on the ground; but 

 the first snow makes a radical change. They now act more like a prop- 

 erly adapted perching bird, for they spend a large part of their time 

 in the highest trees, flying from one to another and perching, brows- 

 ing, or walking about among the branches with perfect ease, and evi- 

 dently at this time preferring an arboreal to a terrestrial life. When 

 thus aloft they are not at all possessed of that feeling of security which 

 makes the similarly situated Ruffed Grouse so easy a prey to the pot- 

 hunter. On the contrary, their perfect grasp of the situation usually 



