222 BIRDS 



madness of her lover. He will sometimes stand motion- 

 less, as if meditating on some new method of winning her, 

 his head drawn in, his bill pressing against his breast. 

 Then, with his short tail raised and outstretched like a 

 grouse's, and with wings trailing beside him, he will strut 

 about with a high step — a comical picture of dignity and 

 importance. 



Little time need be taken from the honeymoon to make 

 a nest. This consists of a few dry leaves on the ground in 

 the woods, usually near a stump, where the eggs are laid, 

 often before the snow has melted, in April. The mimicry 

 of plumage which so closely resembles the woodland floor 

 is remarkable. One can scarcely see a sitting bird, even 

 when quite near her. A dry place being chosen for the 

 nesting site, it sometimes becomes necessary to transport 

 the funny little fluffy, long-billed chicks to muddy hunting 

 grounds, and the mother has been detected in the act of 

 flying with one of her brood held between her thighs. But 

 the chicks are by no means helpless, even from the instant 

 they leave the shell. It is a pretty sight to see a little 

 family poking about at twilight for larvae, worms, and 

 small insects, among the decayed leaves, the fallen logs, 

 and the ferns and skunk cabbages. Peep, peep, they call, 

 quite like barnyard chicks. 



By the first of August the woodcocks, deserting the low, 

 wet lands, scatter themselves over the country in corn- 

 fields, grassy meadows, birch-covered hillsides, "alder 

 runs," pine forests, and thick, cool, naoist undergrowth; 

 and now they moult. No whistling of wings can be heard 

 as the birds heavily labor along near the ground, often un- 

 able to raise their denuded bodies higher. In September, 

 when the sportsmen make sad havoc in^the flocks, already 



