iS2 ■ cassell's book of birds. 



few seconds, the head of the CapercaH is thrown up, his eyes are partially closed, and his whole 

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



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

 the Raven, or rather, perhaps, the sound of ' gock, gock, gock,' assemble from all 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 Capercali does not play indiscriminately over the forest, but has certain stations, which may 

 be called his playing grounds. These, however, are often of some litde extent ; and here, unless 

 very much persecuted, the call of these birds may be heard in the spring, year after year, for years 

 together. The Capercali does not during his play confine himself to any particular tree, and is 

 seldom met with on the same spot for two days in succession. On these playing grounds several 

 Capercali may occasionally be heard playing at the same time. Old male birds will not permit 

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

 the young ones, in the course of a day or two, usually open their pipes. Combats, as may be 

 supposed, not unfrequently take place on these occasions, though I do not recollect having heard of 

 more than two of these birds being engaged at the same time." 



" The Capercali hen makes her nest upon the ground, and lays from six to twelve eggs ; these 

 are two inches three lines long, by one inch eight lines in breadth, and of a pale reddish yellow- 

 brown, spotted all over wth two shades of darker orange-brown. It is said she sits for four weeks ; 

 her young keep with her until the approach of winter, but the cocks separate from the mother before 

 the hens. When the females really commence incubation, they are forsaken by the old males, who 

 skulk about among the brushwood while renewing their plumage, the female alone attending to the 

 hatching and rearing of her progeny." 



" Except there be deep snow upon the ground," says Mr. Lloyd, " the Capercali is much upon 

 the ground in the daytime ; very commonly, however, he sits in the pines, sometimes on the very 

 uppermost branches. During the night he generally roosts in the trees ; but if the winter be very 

 cold, he not unfrequently buries himself in the snow. Considering the large size of the bird, his flight 

 is not particularly heavy or noisy ; indeed, I have not only seen the Capercali at a very considerable 

 height in the air, but I have known him to take a flight of several miles at a time. During the winter 

 he is in most instances to be seen perched on the very uppermost branches of the pines." 



" The Capercali lives to a considerable age ; at least, so we infer from the cocks not attainmg 

 their full growth until their third year, or upwards. The old ones may be easily known from their 

 greater bulk, their eagle-like bill, and the more beautiful glossiness of their plumage. The size of 

 these birds, I have reason to suppose, depends in a great degree on the latitude where they are found." 



Pennant, in his " British Zoology," speaking of the Capercali, says, " This species is found in 

 no other part of Great Britain than the Highlands of Scotland north of Inverness, and is very 

 rare even in those parts. In our country I have seen one specimen, a male, killed in the woods of 

 Mr. Chisholme, to the north of Inverness." 



Of late years successful attempts have been made to restore this bird to Scotland, and in 1836 

 Mr. Lloyd procured for Sir T. Fowell Buxton forty-nine Capercali, male and female. These he 

 presented to his friend Lord Breadalbane, by whom they were reared with such success that about 

 Taymouth Castle they became as common as the Black Cock, and spread thence over all the more 

 wooded parts of the Highlands as far as Aberdeen, and have grown so tame that a carriage might be 

 driven under the trees on which the hens are perched without their taking the slightest notice. 



Although the Capercali is exceedingly shy in its native wilds, it sometimes divests itself of its 

 shyness and approaches people fearlessly ; and this, says Mr. Lloyd, in his amusing volume on the 



