136 



THE OOLOGIST 



The Prairie Hen is a very close setter 

 and is remarkably successful in hatch- 

 ing its full quota of eggs. A set of fif- 

 teen eggs if undisturbed is almost sure 

 to be transformed to fifteen chicks — a 

 result seldom realized by the domestic 

 hen. It is all the more remarkable when 

 we think of the nesting site— flat on the 

 ground with neither protection from 

 the cold winds n- r shelthr from the 

 storms. 



I was tramping along a sfra^s plot 

 between two fields (one mile from 

 town) on June 10th of the present sea- 

 son, when I flushed a Prairie Hen from 

 what had formerly been sixteen eggs. 

 I had arrived at the supreme moment 

 and witnessed the transformation scene. 

 The little fellows were j st hatching 

 out and catching their firsL glimpses of 

 the big outer world. First I would soe 

 a little bill thrust through the shell — 

 then a crack would start at the open- 

 ing gradually spreading until the egg 

 fell apart and "Tympaouchus'' junior 

 would step out as unconcerned as 

 though he were quite used to the pro- 

 ceedings. I was almost ready to pro- 

 nounce them matured at birth when I 

 saw two enterprising youngsters run- 

 ning around with the shells on sheir 

 backs — so different, for instance, from 

 the blind and helpless little creatures 

 awakening to life in the Robin's nest. 



In a half-hour the full sixteen were 

 released — not an infertile egg in the en- 

 tire lot. "Little fishes," thought I, 

 "what a sight this will be for some gun- 

 ner about September first." The flock 

 is still there at this time but I am in 

 hopes the gunner will not materialize. 



One of the peculiar traits of the Prai- 

 rie Hen is its extreme "touchiness" re- 

 garding its nest. Never have I found 

 an incomplete set of eggs that was 

 not promptly deserted by its owners. 



This has become of such frequent 

 and persistent occurrence with us (my 

 fellow oologist, Dr. Jessee, and myself) 

 that the doctor (for the benefit of other 



observers) volunteers a remedy. His. 

 advice is that we look only for com- 

 plete sets on future occasions. 



The Prairie Hen is not particular 

 about its nesting sites, the nests being 

 about equally distributed in the mead- 

 ows and corn fields. Quite a favorite 

 loca'ion is near a fence post or low 

 hedgerow between two fields, with a 

 marked preference for the former situ- 

 tion. Unfortunately nearly all the 

 corn field nests are destroyed with the 

 early spring plowing, for few farmers 

 will trouble to plow around them and 

 few of the birds would return to the 

 nests if they did. 



The nest proper, when there is one, 

 seldom contains more than a few grass- 

 stems. Ordinarily no attempt at nest- 

 building is made the eggs being depos- 

 ited in a ho.lnw of a grassy surface. 



Frequently when the corn field site is 

 chosen the eggs lay directly on the bare 

 ground and a hard beating rain will 

 often imbed them in the loose soil. It 

 is difficult to understsind how these .are 

 successfully brought to the hatching 

 point. 



The most harrassing enemy of "Tym- 

 panuchus' is the common Crow {Gor- 

 vus americanus) — that agent of destruc- 

 tion so well known and instantaneously 

 recognized by all the birds. A few 

 days since a farmer told me of a Crow 

 and Prairie Hen episode of which he 

 was an eye witness. He was plowing 

 in a field where he ha J previously lo- 

 cated a Prairio Hen's nest containing 

 fourteen eggs. The nest was beside a 

 fence between two adjoining fields and 

 in consequence was ia little danger of 

 being disturbed. 



His attention was attracted by an un- 

 usual commotio ' and drawing nearer 

 he saw a fight in which the Hen was 

 bravely defending her property. As 

 he advanced to the rescue (he after- 

 wards saw bis mistake) both adversar- 

 ies flew away. He found the nest sad- 

 ly disturbed and four eggs punctured 



