PARTRIDGE DOVE. 323 



March and April when these berries are ripe, their 

 stomachs are filled with them. Here at the same 

 season, their cooing resounds, which is simply a very 

 sad moan, usually uttered on the ground; but on 

 one occasion we heard it from the limb of a cotton 

 tree at Cave, on which the bird sitting, with its 

 head drawn in, was shot in the very act. But at 

 a little distance, the voice is not distinguishable 

 from the moan of the Mountain Witch. 



A notion prevails that the dark coloured bird is 

 the male, and the rufous one the female; but I 

 have proved the contrary, by repeated dissections. 



One day in June, I went down with a young 

 friend into a wooded valley at Content, to look at 

 a Partridge's nest. As we crept cautiously towards 

 the spot, the male bird flew from it. I was sur- 

 prised at its rudeness; it was nothing but half-a- 

 dozen decayed leaves laid one on another, and on 

 two or three dry twigs, but from the sitting of the 

 birds it had acquired a slight hollowness, about as 

 much as that of a skimmer. It was placed on the 

 top, (slightly sunk among the leaves) of a small 

 bush, not more than three feet high, whose glossy 

 foliage and small white blossoms reminded me of 

 a myrtle. There were two young, recently hatched ; 

 callow and peculiarly helpless, their eyes closed, 

 their bills large and misshapen, they bore little 

 resemblance to birds. 



On another occasion, I saw the male shot while 

 sitting ; the nest was then placed on a slender bush, 

 about five feet from the ground. There were but 



