UFFED GROUSE {Bonasa umbella), the 

 hardiest of game birds, is the subject 

 of one of the intaglio-gravure pictures 

 illustrating "Game Birds of America." 



MONDAY DAILY READING IN THE MENTOR COURSE 

 PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION 



"pHE drumming of a ruflfed grouse is 

 like the sound of a rattlesnake: only 

 those who have heard it know what it is 

 like. It seems to come from any part of 

 the thicket or woods, like the voice of a 

 ventriloquist. Sometimes it resembles 

 distant thunder or the rumble of wheels. 

 Early in spring the male steps cautiously 

 out on a log, first making sure that no fox 

 or weasel is hiding near. His rich chest- 

 nut hue, with purple or bronze on the 

 ruflfs, and white-barred tail, harmonizes 

 beautifully with the shadows of the sur- 

 rounding spruce thicket. Then he rises 

 on tiptoe, and with wings held out aHttle 

 way from the body begins his thump, 

 thump, thump — faster and faster, till it 

 dies away in a mere rumbling. Hunters 

 at one time supposed that this sound 

 was made by the wings striking against 

 the log or stump; but it is now known 

 to be produced by rapid vibration of the 

 quill feathers. Usually there are hen 

 grouse nearby who sneak up through the 

 leaves to watch his performance. He 

 takes them all if he can find them, for the 

 grouse cock prefers a harem; and they 

 go about in a flock together. Day after 

 day the drummer returns to his favorite 

 log, until the warm weather comes on. 

 Sportsmen often speak of shooting 

 when in reality they mean 



grouse; for there are no native pheasants 

 in the United States, the nearest 

 approach being, strangely enough, our 

 wild turkey. Often the ruffed grouse 

 is spoken of as a partridge — and 

 where that is so Bob White is called a 

 quail. 



Still plentiful in spite of many thou- 

 sand guns aimed at its life, the grouse 

 ranges over the whole of noithern North 

 America, making short migrations in 

 search of food or winter quarters. Some- 

 times -when wintering in tall timber it 

 eats great quantities of laurel buds; 

 which, gunners say, makes the flesh 

 highly poisonous for food. The survival 

 of this game bird in such great numbers 

 is due in a large measure to the whir of 

 its flight, which serves a double purpose, 

 startling the gunner and warning all 

 other birds in the neighborhood. Some 

 sportsmen never become accustomed to 

 the sound; but are always unnerved and 

 powerless to shoot the bird that makes it. 

 One gunner, after having stood paralyzed 

 before each grouse as it started up near 

 him and whirred away out of range, 

 roused himself with a desperate effort, 

 and as the next thundered away brought 

 the gun to his shoulder, shouting "Bang!" 

 at the top of his lungs, while the grouse 

 sped on unharmed. 



Copyright, 1913, by. The Mentor Association, Inc. 



