JANUARY 281 



toad that startles you, and the gliding snake. 

 Let either lie quiet and you miss seeing him. 

 For every toad you see you probably pass 

 ten unnoticed. Even after a grasshopper 

 has caught your eye by flying, you usually 

 lose sight of him when he lights. 



THE HUFFED GROUSE 



During my walks through the winter 

 woods I occasionally meet a bird that has 

 learned this lesson well, and that is the 

 ruffed grouse. He is now, alas, too rare, 

 although even in eastern Pennsylvania he 

 was quite common within my memory. 

 The rich brown plumage, with its flecks of 

 black, corresponds so closely with the fallen 

 leaves and occasional patches of bare brown 

 earth that if he will but lie still you are al- 

 most sure to miss him. Should your path 

 run near his resting-place, almost from be- 

 neath your feet he rises to the level of your 

 head; then, with a speed that is at the same 

 time the admiration and the despair of the 

 gunner, he is away through the woods. 

 The low, firm hum of the wings tells of the 



