GAME 



BIRDS 



O F 



AMERICA 



THE RUFFED GROUSE 



"Whir-r-r-r-r-r-r — clip-clip-clip — " Heavens! what was that? Any- 

 how, it's gone, and nobody's hurt. How well I recall the startling sound 

 that checked in an instant my headlong pursuit of a baby cottontail rabbit 

 when, from the leaves almost beneath my feet, up sprang a feathered pro- 

 jectile with thundering wings, 

 which sped away in headlong 

 flight through whirling leaves 

 and bending twigs, disappearing 

 in an instant in the thick of the 



YOUNG GROUSE 



The young bird learning to perch above the reach oj prowl- 

 ing enemies. 



A RUFFED GROUSE NEST 



trees. There I (aged eight) stood, 

 gazing after this new wonder, 

 while little Cottontail made good 

 its escape. I had seen my first 

 grouse, the king of game birds. 



YOUNG GROUSE 



Confident that they are hidden from the camera man. 



In the North this grouse is known as the partridge; Southerners 

 recognize it as the pheasant; but how few of us know more about it! 

 How few realize that it flies quietly when undisturbed, or that it has a 

 variety of notes, ranging from the soft, cooing mother's call to the harsh 



