Ruffed Grouse 65 



may serve in some degree as snow-shoes, supporting the birds when they walk 

 over the deep, light snow of the woods. In the northern country, when the 

 ground is heavily covered with snow, the Grouse are reported sometimes to 

 dive into the light snow-drifts to spend the night, protected from the cold of 

 the upper air by the blanket of snow above them. 



I have not seen this, but it is well authenticated, and once in winter my 

 brother, when walking through the deep snow near an alder run where a Grouse 

 had its home, saw projecting above the snow an odd-shaped stick of wood. 

 He paused and looked at it, declaring to himself that it looked just like a 

 "partridge's" head and neck; and, as he said this, a Ruffed Grouse rose out 

 of the snow and flew away. 



In winter the Ruffed Grouse is very likely to seek out the sunny side of 

 thick woods and swamps, and in the middle of the day to sit there, preening 

 itself and enjoying the grateful warmth. In spring and summer — and even 

 in winter — I have found fresh places where the Grouse had dug out dusting- 

 places in the soil, precisely as domestic chickens do in warm weather. 



The habits of the Ruffed Grouse vary with the locality in which it is 

 found and the conditions of its life. In wild regions, where man is seldom seen, 

 where the roar of firearms is not heard, and its only enemy is lynx or fox or 

 hawk or owl, it is the most trusting of birds. If the traveler comes immediately 

 upon it, it is likely to fly up on the low branch of a tree, and examine him with 

 interest and curiosity. If, by chance, he should fire three or four pistol shots 

 at it without hitting it, it does nothing more than turn its head from side to 

 side, as if curious to discover the cause of the unusual sound. In parts of the 

 Rocky Mountains or of Canada, a Grouse will sometimes sit on a limb, until a 

 noose, tied to the end of a pole, is slipped over its head, or a stick thrown by a 

 vigorous hand knocks it from its perch, or an Indian boy shoots it with a 

 blunt arrow. 



In the East, where it is constantly pursued, the bird has lost its simplicity 

 and trustfulness. It has learned the lesson of self-protection from dog and gun. 

 It flies at the sound of the human voice a long way off; is bold and fearless, or 

 cautious and evasive, as the occasion demands; practises a great variety of 

 stratagems, and is abundantly able to cope with most gunners. While birds 

 without experience are obviously less able to protect themselves, the old 

 stagers who have survived one or two shooting seasons possess a wisdom which 

 often seems fairly uncanny. 



Sportsmen generally believe that, from the middle of October until sharp 

 frosts begin to chill the waters of streams and swamps, the Ruffed Grouse, 

 like their distant cousins, the quail, wander about more or less, and are not to 

 be found in their usual haunts. This is called the "running season" or "crazy 

 season." Certain it is, that at this time of the year there is more or less shift- 

 ing from place to place by the Grouse, who tend to desert their summer resorts 

 and to move into places where, during the season of extreme cold, food and 



