250 Ruffed Grouse 



years ago, when Dr. C. F. Hodge photographed a Ruffed Grouse in the 

 act of drumming, and did this over and over again. It was then seen 

 that, instead of doing what tradition had declared beating his wings 

 against a stone, a hollow log, or his breast the grouse, in fact, beats 

 them only against the air. While he performs this act, the bird throws 

 himself into various curious and fantastic positions, which one would 

 never expect of a Ruffed Grouse. 



Obviously, the drumming is a mating call ; though it is quite possible 

 that it may also be a challenge. It is performed in autumn as well as in 

 spring. It is said that on occasions sportsmen, by imitating the drumming 

 sound, have caused grouse in the woods to come to them. 



The Ruffed Grouse's nest is made, and she begins to lay her eggs, in 

 May ; and it is early June, or the middle of the month, before the tiny young 



have hatched. When the brood leaves the nest, there 

 Nesting may be from a dozen to twenty of the little fellows, 



hardly as large as one's thumb, very active on their 

 feet, and covered with a silky, tawny down of various shades. Only by 

 the merest accident and the greatest good fortune can one hope to see 

 one of these little families, and to watch it undisturbed. Usually, if they 

 have any warning, the tiny chicks squat motionless among the dead leaves 

 on the ground, where they escape notice ; while the anxious mother, pre- 

 tending to be hurt and unable to fly, flutters along the ground, trying to 

 lead the enemy to pursue her and to leave the young ones. The ruse 

 is almost always successful. Dog, boy, and man are quite sure to be 

 deceived, and to follow the fluttering bird, which acts as if she were sorely 

 hurt and could be seized the next moment ; but, after she has enticed the 

 pursuer away from the point of danger, she takes wing and flies swiftly 

 away. 



Once, passing quietly through some big woods, I saw, beyond a little 

 rise only a few steps distant, a dark spot on the leaves, which I recognized 



as a mother-grouse hovering her brood with outspread 

 Young wings. She was as much surprised as I, and, losing 



her presence of mind, flew at once, while from the 

 place where she had been nesting fifteen or twenty tiny young streamed 

 out in every direction. Of most of these I at once lost sight, but on one 

 I kept my eye, and presently, taking two or three steps forward, picked 

 it up from the ground. It crouched on my palm, unafraid, looking at 

 me with a bright, soft eye. Perhaps it was a week old, for the quills of 

 the wings were about a quarter of an inch in length. Putting it down 

 on the leaves, I slowly withdrew to a little knoll, forty or fifty feet distant, 

 and there listened and watched for the mother-bird, which soon came 

 creeping cautiously through the undergrowth until within a few feet of 

 where her babies had been left. There she mounted a stump and talked 

 to them in low notes, and there I left her, easy in mind, I hope, about 

 the little family. 



When autumn comes, and berries and seeds are ripe, and brown nuts 



