208 



THE OOLOGIST. 



back in my cabinet, and I never look 

 into that particular tray without think- 

 ing how hard earned a Crow that was for 

 such an abundant species. In the sum- 

 mer and early fall, however. Crows are 

 quite easily secured, but ai*e not in as 

 nice condition for specimens as the 

 harder procurred winter ones. 



We will now turn, up into that grove 

 from whence we hear the continued 

 tap-tap-tap-ety-tap, of some small Wood- 

 pecker—either a Downy or Hairy prob- 

 bably, as these are the only common 

 ones in the winter. After a cai'eful and 

 quiet search we discover the particular 

 tree where the little spotted tree-climb- 

 er is at work for his breakfast. He is 

 on the other side of that limb, we will 

 walk around and get a good look at 

 him but where is he — oh yes, he is try- 

 ing to keep well out of sight by follow- 

 ing that limb around as fast as we 

 walk. There he goes, in a short quick, 

 upward flight into the top of the second 

 or third tree, a Downy, as his small size 

 tells. 



As we emerge from the edge of the 

 grove a large flock of probably a hun- 

 dred Prairie Chickens make quick work 

 of leaving the two or three large, bare- 

 limbed oaks on the ver*y edge of the 

 field, and in quick flight, make for the 

 direction of the marsh. We walk 

 across the open field toward the large 

 woods, whei*e we will find different 

 birds of the winter. As we near the 

 old rail fence from whence comes the 

 familiar chip, chip of the Tree Sparrow 

 or "Winter Chip Bird," a lai'ge fat rab- 

 bit jumps out and in long, quick leaps 

 makes for the better cover of the hazel 

 patch, but he is not quick enough, for 

 just as he nears the hazel, two more 

 leaps would make him safe, the gun is 

 on him, hastily pulled ahead and tired 

 and with a full somersault bunny lies at 

 the edge of the cover, your lawful 

 meat. The report of the gun scares a 

 large Hawk from the edge of the wood 

 but he makes rather quick work in get- 



ting out of harms way, and as the left 

 barrel is charged with dust — 'tis al- 

 ways so — he makes good his escape 

 with his skin whole. 



We enter the wood; fox and gray 

 squirrels are seeu peeping at us from 

 around some limb or scampering away 

 out of harms reach, but we will not 

 shoot squirrels — they are not tit game 

 for a hunter's gun. A dozen Blue Jays 

 and half as many Crows are making a 

 fearful racket a little ways aluad, let 

 us push on and see what the matter is. 

 On our approach the Crows abandon 

 the field for safer places and the Jays 

 scatter in all directions, but if we sit 

 quite still in the hazel brush the latter 

 are soon back and we discover the 

 cause of all this disturbance. A large 

 Barred Owl, poor fellow, is the target 

 for all this bird-cursing on the Jays 

 part, for I have no doubt but that they 

 were calling him every name in bird 

 language. He does not, however, 

 seem to mind it, hardly moving an inch 

 as a couple screeching Jays swoop past 

 his head. Finally, though, he seems to 

 tire of the noise and persecution and 

 with a silent flopping of wings is off for 

 the thicker part of the wood. 



A few steps farther on, and, with a 

 loud whirr of wings a Ruffed Grouse — 

 locally called Partridge — i"ises from the 

 sunny side of a stump and in rapid, 

 rising flight makes for some sheltering 

 tree over the hill. Now look out, where 

 there is.:one Partridge there are prob- 

 ably more. Another step or two 

 ahead and from the branches of a low 

 tree directly in front of you another 

 one flies, a pity you couldn't have seen 

 him a minute before, but such is Grouse 

 hunting. You hardly make another 

 step forward before the whole covey 

 rises, six or eight of them and if you 

 are quick and true enough perhaps you 

 bag one or two, but more likely not! A 

 Ruffed Grouse is a quick bird in the 

 cold winter months and hard to get a 

 bead on. If we follow the covey up 



