Vol 'ifi9 XVI ] Tuttle, Drumming of the Ruffed Grouse. 331 



five-thirty I took my first picture, from the front, springing the 

 shutter just after the four preliminary wing beats had been fol- 

 lowed by the first two of the faster series. The wings moved once 

 or twice during the exposure, which resulted in a failure, being 

 badly blurred. At five-thirty-two I made my second exposure, 

 from the side, just after the Grouse had finished drumming. I 

 thought that he moved, but the plate showed that he did not, and 

 this exposure proved to be one of the best that I have made. 



The Grouse had drummed twenty-seven times when the rain 

 began at six-seven. I was curious to see if he would weather it 

 out or take shelter. He drummed again, the ruffs well out, rising 

 and falling on the pulsing breeze caused by the wings. The leaves 

 in front of the log are frequently scattered by the force of the final 

 outburst. He drummed again. It was raining in earnest now, 

 and he was drumming in the pouring rain. At six-thirty he left 

 the log and walked directly toward the blind, pausing about two 

 feet away to turn and round it. He picked and ate the new green 

 leaves of a blueberry bush, his beak making a most perceptible 

 snap as he pulled them off. He walked as I have always seen 

 Grouse walk when unconscious of observation or danger, the head 

 carried quite low, the tail folded and horizontal. His crest of 

 course was lowered. After plucking the blueberry bush he began 

 pulling at a laurel with which I had concealed the blind. He then 

 walked up and pecked at the material of the tent itself. After 

 circling the blind, still within two foot range, he returned to his 

 log and at once began to drum. I could wait no longer, and re- 

 treated from the rear opening, keeping the blind between me and 

 the bird until I was so far away that he should not be greatly alarmed 

 when he first saw me. On catching sight of me he crouched quickly, 

 his head low. For perhaps a minute he trusted to his immobility, 

 then realizing that he was seen, his head shot up and he began to 

 walk slowly down the log, his tail flirting nervously at each step. 

 Taking a final look at me, he dropped off the log on the far side and 

 immediately flushed with a roar of wings. 



May 9. I crawled into my blind at three-thirty. Starlight, 

 windy, cold and clear. The Grouse flushed from the log. Whip- 

 poorwills were noisy. The Grouse reconnoitred for an hour, 

 walking all around the blind. Finally satisfied that the coast was 



