THE RUFFED GROUSE. 49 



lowered, its tail is more widely spread, and, if no convenient 

 hiding place is at hand, it immediately takes flight with as 

 much of the whirring sound as it can produce, as if to prove 

 to the observer that, when on the wing, it cares as little 

 about him as the deer pretends to do when, on being started 

 by the hound, he makes several lofty bounds, and erects his 

 tail to the breeze." 



Who that lives in his vicinity has not heard the " drum- 

 ming" of the male in the breeding season? Although it is 

 quite possible that he may not have seen the bird in the act, 

 for that is the privilege of but few. Mr. John Burroughs 

 says: "The male bird selects, not as you would predict, a 

 dry and resinous log, but a decayed and crumbling one, 

 seeming to give the preference to old oak logs that are par- 

 tially blended with the soil. If a log to his taste cannot be 

 found, he sets up his altar on a rock, which becomes resonant 

 beneath his fervent blows. Who has seen the Partridge 

 drum? It is the next thing to catching a weasel asleep, 

 though by much caution and tact it may be done. He does 

 not hug the log, but stands very erect, expands his ruff, 

 gives two introductory blows, pauses half a second, and then 

 resumes, striking faster and faster, till the sound becomes a 

 continuous unbroken whir, the whole lasting less than half 

 a minute. The tips of his wings barely brush the log, so 

 that the sound is produced rather by the force of the blows 

 upon the air and upon his own body as in flying. One log 

 will be used for many years, though not by the same drum- 

 mer. It seems to be a sort of temple, ' and held in great 

 respect. The bird always approaches on foot, and leaves it 

 in the same quiet manner, unless rudely disturbed. He is 

 very cunning, though his wit is not profound. It is difficult 

 to approach him by stealth; you try many times before suc- 

 ceeding; but seem to pass by him in a great hurry, making 

 4 



