110 FEATHERED GAME 
coming of darkness he begins his little play; 
first, as one observer represents it, a gutteral 
‘‘spneak! spneak!’’ several times repeated and 
the sound not unlike the note of a nighthawk; 
with drooping wings and spreading tail he struts 
like a turkey cock, and finally leaping into the 
air on whistling wings he circles in ever-widen- 
ing, higher-mounting spirals to perhaps a height 
of fifty yards or more, and after flying about 
high up in the gloom he pitches down in slanting, 
darting flight, the music still sounding, to the 
side of the mate he has left in the brush. 
Again and again he repeats this until he tires 
of his amusement or her ladyship commands his 
attendance. 
Those of the young which I have had the op- 
portunity of examining closely were killed by a 
pointer puppy which had joined me for a Sun- 
day stroll. These were of a light brownish 
yellow color, with several dusky or dark brown 
stripes—one from the bill to the eye; one on 
top of the head down over the hind neck; a 
spot behind the eye and another below it; the 
back mottled with black and grayish buff; a 
dark stripe on the rump. At this age when 
scurrying over the leaves and through the grass 
