The Ruffed Grouse 115 



grouse thoroughly understands the situation ; 

 that while he hopes to see an admiring hen, or 

 hens, — for he's a regular Turk, — he knows he 

 may see a man, or a lynx, or a fox, or some other 

 cold-hearted brute. Or, worse yet, one or other 

 may be there and he not see quite soon enough ! 

 Meanwhile, the hen, or hens, have been listening 

 to the drumming and admiring the performer. 

 They are somewhat like some larger hens, inas- 

 much as a bold front compels their admiration ; 

 also, because they know that a shy, timorous, 

 mind-all-ready-made-up-but-it's-so-sudden sort of a 

 policy is the deadliest. So, being wise virgins 

 possessed of a few shares of standard oil, they're 

 in no great hurry. Eventually he weds, the lot, 

 if there be a lot, conducts a harem for a time — 

 then deserts them, one and all. 



Should the response to the drummer's effort 

 be a male, there speedily is trouble. The old, 

 old struggle for the survival of the fittest is — 

 well — fit ! They go together with all the dash 

 and spirit one would expect of such game, strong 

 fellows, and frequently the battle is furious and 

 prolonged. Out of a maelstrom of whirling fight, 

 one presently emerges, minus some blood and 

 feathers, but plus some useful knowledge, and 

 the subsequent proceedings in that woody Eden 

 interest him no more. 



The duties of choosing a site for the nest, 



