508 



A HISTORY OF 



Paris, that I did not consider the immense 

 quantity of game that was running almost 

 tame on every side rne, as a bai:ge of the 

 slavery of the people ; and what they wished 

 me to observe as an object of triumph, I always 

 regarded with a kind of secret compassion : 

 yet this people have no game-laws for the re- 

 moter parts of the kingdGm ; the game is only 

 preserved in a few places for the king, and is 

 free in most places else. In England, the 

 prohibition is general ; and the peasant has not 

 a right to what even slaves, as he is taught to 

 call them, are found to possess. 



Of partridges there are two kinds ; the gray 

 an'l the red. The red partridge is the largest 

 of the two, and often perches upon trees; the 

 gray, with \vhich we are best acquainted in 

 England, is most prolific, and always keeps on 

 the ground. 



The partridge seems to be a bird well known 

 all over the world, as it is found in every 

 country, and in every climate ; as well in the 

 frozen regions about the pole, as the torrid 

 tracts under the equator. It even seems to 

 adapt itself to the nature of the climate where 

 it resides. In Greenland, the partridge, which 

 is brown in summer, as soon as the icy winter 

 sets in, begins to take a covering suited to the 

 season : it is then clothed with a warm down 

 beneath ; and its outward plumage assumes 

 the colour of the snows amongst which it seeks 

 its food. Thus it is doubly fitted for the place, 

 by the warmth and the colour of its plumage; 

 the one to defend it from the cold, the oth'-r to 

 prevent its being noticed by the enemy. Those 

 of Barakonda, on the other hand, are 

 longer-legged, much swifter of foot, and 

 choose the highest rocks and precipices to re- 

 side in. 



They all, however, agree in one character, 

 of being immoderately addicted to venery ; 

 and, as some writers affirm, often to an un- 

 natural degree. It is certain the male will 

 pursue the hen even to her nest ; and will 

 break her eggs, rather than not indulge his in- 

 clinations. Though the young ones have 



kept together in flocks during the winter, when 

 they begin to pair in spring, their society dis- 

 perses, and combats, very terrible with respect 

 to each other, ensue. Their manners, in other 

 circumstances, resemble all those of poultry in 

 general ; but their cunning and instincts seem 

 superior to those of the larger kinds. Perhaps, 

 as they live in the very neighbourhood of their 

 enemies, they have more frequent occasion to 

 put their little arts in practice ; and learn, by 

 habit, the means of evasion or safety. When- 

 ever, therefore, a dog, or other formidable ani- 

 mal, approaches their nest, the female uses 

 every means to draw him away. She keeps 

 just before him, pretends to be incapable of 

 flying, just hops up, and then fallsdown before 

 him, but never goes off so far as to discourage 

 her pursuer. At length, when she has drawn 

 him entirely away from her secret treasure, 

 she at once takes wing, and fairly leaves hiru 

 to g;tze after her in despair. 



After the danger is over, and the dog with- 

 drawn, she then calls her young, who assemble 

 at once at her cry, and follow where she leads 

 them. There are generally from ten to fifteen 

 in a covey ; and, if unmolested, they live from 

 fifteen to seventeen years. 



There are several methods of taking them, 

 as is well known : that by which they are 

 taken in a net with a setting-dog, is the most 

 pleasant, as well as the most secure. The dog, 

 as every body knows, is trained to this exercise 

 by a long course of education : by blows and 

 caresses he is taught to lie down at the word of 

 command ; a partridge is shown him, and he 

 is then ordered to lie down: he is brought into 

 the field, and when the sportsman perceives 

 where the covey lies, he orders his dog to 

 crouch : at length the dog, from habit, crouches 

 wherever he approaches a covey ; and this is 

 the signal which the sportsman receives for 

 unfolding, and covering the birds with his nel. 

 A covey thus caught, is sometirrtes fed in a 

 place proper for their reception ; but they can 

 never be thoroughly tamed, like the rest of our 

 domestic poultry. 



