° 1919 J Ttjttle, Drumming of the Ruffed Grouse. o29 



I had set the shutter for a fifth of a second exposure and had not 

 planned to take the bird as he drummed, but the temptation was 

 too strong, and as there was light enough (at five minutes after 

 five) I waited till I saw the wings flash out in the first beat, and 

 then pulled the shutter thread. His wings thumped twice while 

 the shutter opened and closed, so that I had little hope of a clear- 

 cut image on the plate, but the developed negative shows with 

 what steadiness the bird holds himself during the drumming, for 

 while the wings are blurred, the head is sharp and shows no trace 

 of movement. 



The Grouse preened himself twice, running his mandibles over 

 his ruffs, the feathers of his rump and each long tail feather. Sev- 

 eral times he turned about as if to go, and then like one overcome 

 by an irresistible temptation, he would face about quickly, brace 

 his feet on the accustomed piece of bark, and begin to drum. 

 He left the log at six o'clock. 



The performance did not differ essentially from others that I 

 had witnessed, except that this bird took four preliminary wing 

 beats instead of three. His crest was erect throughout the drum- 

 ming, the ruffs partly, but not prominently, displayed. One of the 

 Michigan birds whose drumming I observed, did not elevate his 

 crest until the conclusion of the "roll." 



May 3. Although I entered the blind at three-forty-five, the 

 Grouse flushed from the log. If he roosted there he must have 

 gone to roost late, as I did not finish setting up my second camera 

 till after seven o'clock of the night before. 



As I sat in my blind waiting for the Grouse to return, a Whip- 

 poorwill sang and either this Grouse or another drummed in the 

 birch glade below the ridge. A Chewink called. There was a 

 chorus of Robin's voices which almost drowned the hymn of a 

 Hermit Thrush, but could not dampen the ardor of a Chickadee. 



The Grouse did not return till four-fifty, when I heard his heavy 

 footfall, and the scratching noise made by his toe nails on the log as 

 he ascended it. Walking a few steps along the log until he came to 

 the spot where a loose piece of bark offered a convenient foothold, 

 he struck a pose. The wings flashed out, hung limp, and flashed 

 out again. There was a pause in which he seemed to gird his loins 

 for the blows that were to follow, then beat followed beat till the 



