COCK SHOOTING 81 



in evident distress round and round the blaze, the bird at length 

 plunged into the midst of the flames, making a funeral pyre for 

 herself and four fledglings which were afterwards discovered burnt 

 to a cinder. 



On another occasion a farmer, while harrowing a piece of newly 

 burned ground reclaimed from the forest with a rude harrow made 

 of maple branches, passed over a woodcock on her eggs. Two of 

 these were broken. It certainly was a most extraordinary act of 

 courage on the part of the bird to refuse to rise while the horses 

 were almost trampling her body and the brush harrow^actually 

 sweeping over it. 



AMERICAN WOODCOCK ON HER EGGS. 



There is always a certain amount of mystery about nocturnal 

 or crepuscular birds which justifies an unusual interest in their 

 habits. A dry, level, open space fringed with timber is a favourable 

 spot for listening to the peculiar night song with which the wood- 

 cock wooes his mate. First arises a curious ' cluck-cluck ' from 

 some patch of scrub near the edge of the wood, where the little owl- 

 like bird is strutting like a miniature turkey cock, jetting out his 

 white- tipped tail like a lady's fan. Suddenly a dark form springs 

 high in the air, quickly rising above the tops of the tallest trees. 

 Up, up, the bird soars like the lark, all the while ' pouring forth a 

 flood of rapture most divine'. One single note with ever-increasing 

 intensity and fervour passes from a sweet warbling at length into a 

 quick, ecstatic, tumultuous burst of song. This he continues for 



