COCK SHOOTING 81 



in evident distress round and round the blaze, the bird at length 

 plunged into the midst of the flames, making a funeral pyre for 

 herself and four fledglings which were afterwards discovered burnt 

 to a cinder. 



On another occasion a farmer, while harrowing a piece of newly 

 burned ground reclaimed from the forest with a rude harrow made 

 of maple branches, passed over a woodcock on her eggs. Two of 

 these were broken. It certainly was a most extraordinary act of 

 courage on the part of the bird to refuse to rise while the horses 

 were almost trampling her body and the brush harrow actually 

 sweeping over it. 



AMERICAN WOODCOCK ON HER EGGS. 



There is always a certain amount of mystery about nocturnal 

 or crepuscular birds which justifies an unusual interest in their 

 habits. A dry, level, open space fringed with timber is a favourable 

 spot for listening to the peculiar night song with which the wood- 

 cock wooes his mate. First arises a curious ' cluck-cluck ' from 

 some patch of scrub near the edge of the wood, where the little owl- 

 like bird is strutting like a miniature turkey cock, jetting out his 

 white- tipped tail like a lajly's fan. Suddenly a dark form springs 

 high in the air, quickly rising above the tops of the tallest trees. 

 Up, up, the bird soars like the lark, all the while ' pouring forth a 

 flood of rapture most divine'. One single note with ever-increasing 

 intensity and fervour passes from a sweet warbling at length into a 

 quick, ecstatic, tumultuous burst of song. This he continues for 



