286 



at Natural 



two full-blown ox-bladders together, but 

 much louder ; the strokes at first are slow 

 and distinct, but gradually increase in ra- 

 pidity, till they run into each other, resem- 

 bling the rumbling sound of very distant 

 thunder, dying away gradually on the ear. 

 After a few minutes' pause, this is again 

 repeated, and, in a calm day, may be heard 

 nearly half a mile off. This drumming is 

 most common in spring, and is the call of 

 the cock to his favourite female. It is pro- 

 duced in the following manner : The bird, 

 standing on an old prostrate log, generally 

 in a retired and sheltered situation, lowers 

 his wings, erects his expanded tail, contracts 

 his throat, elevates the two tufts of feathers 

 on the neck, and inflates his whole body, 

 something in the manner of the turkey cock, 

 strutting and wheeling about with great 

 stateliness. After a few manoeuvres of this 

 kind, he begins to strike with his stiffened 

 wings in short and quick strokes, which be- 

 come more and more rapid until they run 

 into each other, as has been already described. 

 This is most common in the morning and 

 evening, though I have heard them drum- 

 ming at all hours of the day. By means of 

 this, the gunner is led to the place of his 

 retreat ; though, to those unacquainted with 

 the sound, there is great deception in the 

 supposed distance, it generally appearing to 

 be much nearer than it really is. 



"The pheasant begins to pair in April, 

 and builds its nest early in May. This is 

 placed on the ground, at the root of a bush, 

 old log, or other sheltered and solitary situ- 

 ation, well surrounded with withered leaves. 

 Unlike that of the quail, it is open above, 

 and is usually composed of dry leaves and 

 grass. The eggs are from nine to fifteen in 

 number, of a brownish white, without any 

 spots, and nearly as large as those of a pul- 

 let. The young leave the nest as soon as 

 hatched, and are directed by the cluck of 

 the mother, very much in the manner of the 

 common hen. On being surprised, she ex- 

 hibits all the distress and affectionate 

 manoeuvres of the quail, and of most other 

 birds, to lead you away from the spot. I 

 once started a hen pheasant with a single 

 young one., seemingly only a few days old ; 

 there might have been more, but I observed 

 only tliis one. The mother fluttered before 

 me for a moment ; but. suddenly darting 

 towards the young one, seized it in her bill, 

 and flew off along the surface through the 

 woods, with great steadiness and rapidity, 

 till she was beyond my sight, leaving me in 

 I great surprise at the incident. I made a 

 I very close and active search around the spot 

 I for "the rest, but without success. Here was 

 a striking instance of something more than 

 what is termed blind instinct, in this remark- 

 able deviation from her usual manoeuvres 

 when she has a numerous brood. It would 

 have been impossible for me to have injured 

 this affectionate mother, who had exhibited 

 such an example of presence of mind, reason, 

 and sound judgment, as must have convinced 

 the most bigoted advocates of mere instinct. 

 To carry off a whole brood in this manner 

 at once would have been impossible, and to 

 attempt to save one at the expense of the 



rest would be unnatural. She therefore 

 usually takes the only possible mode of 

 saving them in that case, by decoying the 

 person in pursuit of herself, by such a na- 

 tural imitation of lameness as to impose on 

 most people. But here, in the case of a sin- 

 gle solitary young one, she instantly altered 

 her plan, and adopted the most simple and 

 effectual means for its preservation. 



" The pheasant generally springs within a 

 few yards, with a loud whirring noise, and 

 flies with great vigour through the woods, 

 beyond reacli of view, before it alights. With 

 a good dog, however, they are easily found ; 

 and at some times exhibit a singular degree 

 of infatuation, by looking down from the 

 brandies where they sit, on the dog below, 

 who, the more noise he keeps up, seems the 

 more to confuse and stupify them, so that 

 they may be shot down, one by one, till the 

 whole are killed, without attempting to fly 

 off. In such cases those on the lower limbs 

 must be taken first ; for, should the upper 

 ones be first killed, in their fall they alarm 

 those below, who immediately fly off. In 

 deep snows they are usually taken in traps, 

 commonly dead traps, supported by a figure 

 4 trigger. At this season, when suddenly 

 alarmed, they frequently dive into the snow, 

 particularly when it has newly fallen, and, 

 coming out at a considerable distance, again 

 take wing. They are pretty hard to kill, 

 and will often carry off a large load to the 

 distance of two hundred yards, and drop 

 down dead. Sometimes, in the depth of 

 winter, they approach the farm house, and 

 lurk near the barn, or about the garden. 

 They have also been often taken young, and 

 tamed, so as to associate with the fowls ; 

 and their eggs have frequently been hatched 

 under the common hen ; but these rarely 

 survive until full grown. They are exceed- 

 ingly fond of the seeds of grapes ; occasion- 

 ally eat ants, chestnuts, blackberries, and 

 various vegetables. Formerly they were 

 numerous in the immediate vicinity of Phi- 

 ladelphia : but, as the woods were cleared 

 and population increased, they retreated to 

 the interior. At present there are very few 

 to be found within several miles of the city, 

 and those only singly, in the most solitary 

 and retired woody recesses. 



" The pheasant is in best order for the 

 table in September and October. At this 

 season they feed chiefly on whortleberries, 

 . and the little red aromatic partridge-berries; 

 the last of which give their flesh a peculiar 

 I delicate flavour. With the former our 

 I mountains are literally covered from August 

 I to November ; and these constitute, at that 

 season, the greater part of their food. During 

 the deep snows of winter, they have recourse 

 to the buds of alder, and the tender buds of 

 the laurel. I have frequently found their 

 crops distended with a large handful of these 

 latter alone ; and it has been confidently 

 asserted, that, after having fed for some time 

 on the laurel buds, their flesh becomes highly 

 dangerous to eat of, partaking of the poison- 

 ous qualities of the plant. The same has 

 been asserted of the flesh of the deer, when, 

 in severe weather and deep snows, they sub- 

 sist on the leaves and bark of the laurel. 



