32 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [CHAP. m. 



trader as if lame, and having led him lo some distance from the 

 brood takes flight, and making a circuit returns to them. The 

 cock bird sometimes keeps with the brood, but takes good care 

 of himself, and running off leaves them to their fate. Wild and 

 wary as the blackcock usually is, he sometimes waits till you 

 almost tread on him, and then flutters away, giving as easy a 

 shot to the sportsman as a turkey would do. At other times, 

 being fond of basking in the sun, he lies all day enjoying its 

 rays in some open place where it is difficult to approach him 

 without being seen. 



In snowy weather the black game perch very much on the 

 fir-trees, as if to avoid chilling their feet on the colder ground : 

 in wet weather they do the same. 



During the spring, and also in the autumn, about the time 

 the first hoar-frosts are felt, I have often watched the blackcocks 

 in the early morning, when they collect on some rock or height, 

 and strut and crow with their curious note not unlike that of a 

 wood-pigeon. On these occasions they often have most desperate 

 battles. I have seen five or six blackcocks all fighting at once, 

 and so intent and eager were they, that I approached within a 

 few yards before they rose. Usually there seems to be a master- 

 bird in these assemblages, who takes up his position on the most 

 elevated spot, crowing and strutting round and round with 

 spread-out tail like a turkey-cock, and his wings trailing on the 

 ground. The hens remain quietly near him, whilst the smaller 

 or younger male birds keep at a respectful distance, neither 

 daring to crow, except in a subdued kind of voice, or to ap- 

 proach the hens. If they attempt the latter, the master-bird 

 dashes at the intruder, and often a short melee ensues, several 

 others joining in it, but they soon return to their former re- 

 spectful distance. I have also seen an old blackcock crowing 

 on a birch-tree with a dozen hens below it, and the younger 

 cocks looking on in fear and admiration. It is at these times 

 that numbers fall to the share of the poacher, who knows that 

 the birds resort to the same spot every morning. 



Strong as the blackcock is, he is often killed by the peregrine 

 falcon and the hen-harrier. When pursued by these birds, I 

 have known the blackcock so frightened as to allow himself to 

 be taken by the hand. I once caught one myself who had been 



