THE CAPEKCAILLIE. 



appears that they sit in a circle with their heads radiating outwards and their taila 

 almost touching each other. 



The top of the head and the upper part of the breast are warm reddish brown, the 

 chin is pure white, and a streak of white runs from behind the eye along the neck. The 

 sides of the neck are also reddish brown spotted with black and white. The upper 

 surface of the body is reddish brown sprinkled with ashy grey and black. The wings are 

 grey-brown, and the tertials edged with yellowish white. The abdomen and lower parts 

 of the breast are yellowish white, marked with spear-head dashes of black. The female 

 is known by the yellowish brown of the chin and sides of the head. It is a larger bird 

 than the European Quail, being about nine inches long. 



ALTHOUGH once a common inhabitant of the highland districts of Great Britain, the 

 CAPEKCAILLIE has now been almost wholly extinct for some years, a straggling specimen 

 being occasionally seen in Scotland, and shot " for the benefit of science." This bird is 

 also known by the following names : Cock of the Woods, Mountain Cock, Auerhahii, and 

 Capercailzie. 



It is now most frequently found in the northern parts of Europe, Norway and Sweden 

 I eing very favourite homes. From those countries it is largely imported into England by 

 the game-dealers. 



The Capercaillie is celebrated, not only for its great size and the excellence of its flesh, 

 but for its singular habits just previous to and during the breeding season. Mr. Lloyd 

 has given so excellent an account of these curious proceedings, that they must be told in 

 his own words : 



" At this period, and often when the ground is still deeply covered with snow, the 

 cock stations himself on a pine and commences his love song, or play as it is termed in 

 Sweden, to attract the hens about him. This is usually from the first dawn of day to 

 sunrise, or from a little after sunset until it is quite dark. The time, however, more or 

 less depends upon the mildness of the weather and the advanced state of the season. 



During his ' play/ the neck of the Capercaillie is stretched out, his tail is raised and 

 spread like a fan, his wings droop, his feathers are ruffled up, and, in short, he much 

 resembles an angry turkey-cock. He begins his play with a call something resembling 

 Peller! peller! peller! These sounds he repeats at first at some little intervals ; but as he 

 proceeds, they increase in rapidity, until at last, and after perhaps the lapse of a minute 

 or so, lie makes a sort of gulp in his throat and finishes with sucking in, as it were, his 

 breath. 



During the continuance of this latter process, which only lasts a few seconds, the 

 head of the Capercaillie is thrown up, his eyes are partially closed, and his whole 

 appearance would denote that he is worked up into an agony of passion. At this time 

 his faculties are much absorbed, and it is not difficult to approach him. . . . The play of 

 the Capercaillie is not loud, and should there be any wind stirring in the trees at the time, 

 it cannot be heard at any considerable distance. Indeed, during the calmest and most 

 favourable weather, it is not audible at more than two or three hundred paces. 



On hearing the call of the cock, the hens, whose cry in some degree resembles the 

 croak of the raven, or rather perhaps the sounds, Gockf Crock f Oock! assemble from al 

 parts of the surrounding forest. The male bird now descends from the eminence on 

 which he was perched, to the ground, where he and his female friends join company. 



The Capercaillie does not play indiscriminately over the forest, but he has his certain 

 stations (Tjader-lek, which may perhaps be rendered, his playing- grounds). These, how- 

 ever, are often of some little extent. Here, unless very much persecuted, the song of 

 these birds may be heard in the spring for years together. The Capercaillie does not, 

 during his play, confine himself to any particular tree, for, on the contrary, it is seldom 

 he is to be met with exactly on the same spot for two days in succession. 



On these lek, several Capercaillie may occasionally be heard playing at the same 

 time ; Mr. Grieff, in his quaint way, observes, 'It then goes gloriously.' So long, how- 

 ever, as the old male birds are alive, they will not, it is said, permit the young ones, or 

 those of the preceding season, to play. Should the old birds, however, be killed, the 



