y2 AMERIOAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



"THE RUFFED GROUSE ON SNOW SHOES/" 

 W. C. Knowles. 



Deep snows cover the wintergreen patches and the last red berry has 

 been phicked from the bitter-sweet vine. What will the grouse do for the 

 next meal? 



Several times during last winter two or three of these brown birds came 

 flying through the dusky twilight with that familiar whirring sound of the 

 woods, and alighted on the topmost branches of the door-yard apple tr^es. 

 They were after apple buds and ate with great rapidity. We could hear 

 them feasting long after it was too dark for us to see, until they flew away 

 to the woods and the warmth of the hemlock trees. They returned before 

 daylight for their breakfast. 



The grouse does not depend wholly upon buds for food, for he can walk 

 the snow drifts with great ease. In fall a fringe of hard bristles grows on 

 toth sides of each toe. This bristly growth prevents the bird from sinking 

 into the snow bank and enables it to burrow for food to some extent. 



In April, these comb-toothed shoes will disappear and the bird will go 

 barefoot all summer. Look for the tracks of the grouse on the snow and 

 see for yourself how this shy w-ood bird walks on snow shoes. 



A DRUMMER BOY. 



My interest in the partridge was aroused by reading William Long's story 

 of the "Or Beech Pa'tridge." This is the story of a bird, which roamed for 

 years over a certain tract of land, claiming it as his own, and from it, driv- 

 ing off" every other cock partridge that dared approach the region of his two 

 favorite drumming logs. He was the target of many a hunter, and many a 

 noble dog tried to hold him, but in vain. As a last resort, a small boy set a 

 trap for him, but through the curiosity of a blue jay, the 01' Beech 

 Pa'tridge's life was spared. 



Due to the large number of devotees of the hunt, the woods in this region, 

 have been largely depopulated of these birds. So it was to me a matter of 

 joy and interest when an opportunity was presented of observing the 

 partridge. 



Tired from a long walk, which had just lead through an old wood lot 

 densely covered with a low growth of bushes and brambles, I sat down to 

 rest. At my feet trickled a little brook, and opposite rose a gentle slope 

 covered with hickories, seemingly an ideal place for birds. 



As I looked about, my eye rested on a stump, and standing on it, though 

 scarcely discernible on account of the blending of color, was a cock par- 

 trido-e. The bird strutted about on the stump with drooping wings, his fine 



