THE RUFFED GROUSE 25 



spot for his drumming for a long time, coming 

 day after day to his chosen station. One old 

 "drumming log" is still in use near where I am 

 writing, although the screen of spruces for- 

 merly protecting it has been cut down these 

 three years and it is now fifty yards to the near- 

 est cover. Mr. Grouse, if he survives the perils 

 of the fall months, will return next season; if 

 not, another will "take the stump" in the good 

 cause and continue the business at the old stand. 

 The courtship over and happily ended, the 

 hen builds her nest in some secluded and safely 

 hidden nook and begins housekeeping. Her 

 home is a very modest affair, quite unpreten- 

 tious. On the ground, in the shelter of a fall- 

 en tree or in the shadow of a juniper bush a 

 small depression is rounded out and lined with 

 leaves, grass and dry pine needles very little 

 of the artistic but all for convenience and util- 

 ity simplicity itself. It contains from seven 

 to sixteen eggs, creamy white, rather pointed at 

 one end, and as may be guessed, when the 

 youngsters arrive the mother bird has no lack 

 of employment in caring for them, for at this 

 season she leaves the male entirely and sets up 

 housekeeping alone lest he destroy the nest and 



